bwisitdiaries*

friday

2012-01-05T21:37:00.000-08:00

I don’t feel like going out today. I just want to stay home and surf and perhaps watch a good movie. I don’t know. It’s Friday and I should start working. Alam mo naman, ang bills. And I have a meeting to go to. No, correction, a meeting I should go to. Can someone take over my body na lang so I wouldn’t walk around lifeless and stupid? Wag lang demonyo ha!

sometime last april

2011-12-31T01:35:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was an absolute nightmare. Feeling ko na-Drag Me to Hell ako. After breaking up with my boyfriend, my laptop bogged down. Sumabay yata sa page-end ng aking relationship, kumukuha ng sariling moment. Punyeta. So I spent most of my day looking for a repair shop in Cubao and Greenhills and when I realized that my efforts were for naught, I decided to drink myself to death. Well, not exactly to death. I just needed to fast forward the day. I want to be blissfully asleep. I want to forget that I was, well, still breathing. If my life was an opera then this is the part where I sing my aria!

But then my phone rang. It was my boss. She needed the script I promised her earlier. Pronto. Owkay gow! So I went down to the internet shop (kasi nga sira ang netbook ko), did the script and went back to being a drunken drama queen.

Pero hindi rin ako naka-tulog kaagad so when 4:30 am arrived, I decided to take my depression to the empty streets and jog. I jogged away my resentment and the vodka cruising in my veins. And just as the bukangliwayway was coming, I listened to "The Way We Were" ni lola Barbra. bakla kung bakla diva?

Then i thought: how should i remember five years of happiness, disappointment, and anger? like barbra and robert lang ba, in a long shot while they were saying bye bye in the park like in the way we were? Or like kate and jim in a narrow hallway, taking another chance at love even though they knew it wouldn’t work like in the eternal sunshine of the spotless mind?

But then I realized that looking back at the relationship is like looking through a broken glass. Too early for a summary. Wala akong klarong makikita. Puro bubog at crack lang na malamang ay mangingintab kapag tinamaan ng araw. I will only end up looking at my heart breaking into a million pieces.

mababangong panaginip

2011-12-31T01:34:00.001-08:00

1.

Two dogs were in flames. They were running around, screaming in pain. I was with my brother and in my hand was a pale of water. I was trying to put out the fire but the dogs kept moving. Later on, when the fire had been put out, I tried wrapping cloth on one of the dog’s burned skin. When I looked up, I saw that the dog was missing a jaw. His muzzle had been sliced off. He looked at me with his flesh exposed, fresh and pulsating.

Then I woke up.

2.

A cat has been possessed by the devil. He jumps from one end of the room to another. At one point, the cat turned into an infant. I took out a samurai and immediately cut both of his arms.

3.

A small elephant hurls itself at me. She snaps at my neck but instead of hurting me I am reduced to giggling. Apparently it is a female elephant and she is procuring me for her baby.

4.

I woke up in the rear seat of a moving car. The interior lights were on but the highway outside was pitch dark. I asked the driver where we were heading. She said she was taking me home but she doesn't know where I live. The driver by the way was a young student with short hair and a colegiala accent. I gave her my address but she doesn't know the place. I tell her the directions but she said that the place doesn't exist anymore. apparently, i woke up in 2025. at first i thought it was cool. this is the first time i dreamed that i was in the future. however, the more i think about it the more i realize how sad it is. i think that my subconscious is telling me to grow up.

5.

Someone was dead and I was assigned to bury it on a hill behind our backyard. I went out looking for a nice spot when I saw three guys dumping another body. I immediately ran back to the house to inform my brother and we started locking all the doors. This is a recurring theme in my dreams. There is always someone out to get me and I keep trying to run away. There is always an element of fear, of anxiety. In my most recent dream, however, as we locked all the windows and doors, I felt excitement instead. It was like meeting an old friend.

Then I was in a large white room. One of the men that I saw earlier came in and we started having sex. I don't remember his face but he has chiselled abs with hairs crawling all over it. - feb. 6, 2010

6.

Papunta ako sa isang isla kasama ng ilang press people. Kasama ko si MJ at worried siya kasi may diving na gagawin. Naka-simangot siya. Ayaw na ayaw niyang nagsho-shorts eh. Sabi ko keri lang yan teh. Isipin mo na lang, ikaw si Dyesebel.
Maulan sa isla. Tuloy tuloy ang buhos ng ulan. Since hindi naman ako kailangan sa diving activity, inexplore ko na lang ang shore. May nakita akong pet shop. Na-realize ko na ito yung dating mango grove dun sa lugar kung saan ako lumaki. Excited akong pumasok, hoping to find my kababata. Pero wala siya dun. Weird yung pet shop. Walang animals.

Paglabas ko nasa isa akong pier. Metal everywhere. Steel metal. Metal containers etc. Medyo nalungkot ako kasi eto na pala yung dating tinitirhan ko. Wala nap ala akong babalikan. I sat on a bench and took a photograph of the site where our house used to sit. Medyo parang city na ito. Parang mga sulok-sulok lang sa Makati.
Bumalik ako sa barko at may nakita akong isang babaeng naka-gown. Mahaba ang kanyang buhok at naka-hulis itong Christmas tree. Kulay green rin ito. Naaliw ako at kinuhanan ko rin siya ng litrato. Game naman si ate sa pag-pose.

Pagpasok ko sa may lobby ng barko nakasalubong ko si Rustom Padilla. Yes, si Rustom. Hindi na siya si BB Gandang Hari. Rustom circa 90s. He was consoling a woman who was apparently in love with him. “Ok lang yan,” sabi ni Rustom sa babae sabay akbay.
Rustom and the girl walk around the small town. Eventually, Rustom ditches the girl and comes across our floor director. The FD says something to Rustom and now he has to look for a proper outfit. He spots an ukay-ukay and shops for clothes.

sabi ng emoterang beki

2011-12-29T21:12:00.000-08:00

After accomplishing one of my four deadlines for the night, I decided to sit in front of the TV and watch the last few minutes of “Eat, Pray, Love,” a movie I detested even before I have seen it. But there I was, trying to search for clues on how I can heal myself in the four corners of the screen. Heal. Yes, heal. We do get wounded by failed relationships no? That came to me pretty late in life. I wish I had my first major heartbreak when I was a teenager. If I could just sweep away the memory of my previous relationship I would. The break-up shook me to the core. And I’m still smarting from it.

I realized that I no longer crave for pleasure. I no longer seek mind-blowing experiences, sensations that paralyze us for a few seconds, pleasures that give us hints of a heavenly after-life. Instead I seek peace. I want to be able to sit in an empty room and not feel the gnawing pain.

-Sometime in the last several months. Ngayon keri-keri na.

Jump

2011-12-29T20:48:00.000-08:00

“What is a man but a piece of meat that grieves too much,” sabi ni Lourd de Veyra sa tula niyang “Seaon of One Thousand Suicides.” I’ve always been fascinated by suicides especially the ones done publicly. Ano nga ba ang naisip nung isang babae noong tumalon siya mula sa MRT ilang taon na ang nakakalipas? Nabasa ko sa isang blog tungkol sa mga metro crimes nitong taon lang, isang nursing student ang tumalon naman mula sa 5th floor ng isang mall sa probinsya. Uso na pala ang suicides sa mall these days. Pero mas uso yata ang pagtalon ng mga kalalakihan mula sa mga gigantic billboards sa EDSA. “They clamber up one thousand billboards of Sharon cuneta/ peddler of one thousand cellular phones with a single fat smile --- shadows/ of their razor-thin arms and legs prickling her plump pink cheeks,” sabi nga sa opening line ng tula ni de Veyra, his line loaded with socio-political meaning. I’ve always thought that suicide should be done privately and the abovementioned acts makes me wonder if the desperate people who took their lives in public places had felt too invisible, too neglected that they had to express their despair in a place where a crowd would gather.

Or maybe they thought jumping from a building would be less painful than slitting their wrist? Sabi nga ni de Veyra, “Maybe at the top the wind has the gentleness of daggers”? O kung fan ka man ni Ai-Ai siguro ang sasabihin mo bago tumalon ay “This is it. Let’s do this.” Wala na ngang bawian kapag nakalundag ka na.

Recently, the boyfriend and I were at a bookstore. Tinitingnan ko yung isang libro, ina-admire lang yung cover nang makita ako ni boyfriend. I’ve read that book, sabi niya. Nakakatulong daw sa mga teenagers na suicidal. Suddenly I asked myself if I was ever suicidal. Yes, there have been moments where committing suicide has crossed my mind but I realized I neither have the courage or enough misery to pursue it. In short, I’m simply not that miserable or hopeless. Besides, I’ve always believed that suicide is a selfish act. Wala pa akong pang-bayad ng kabaong ko. Ayoko kong pati pagpapalibing sa akin iaasa ko pa sa nanay ko. Siya na nga ang nagbayad ng ospital noong ipinanganak ko dib a? So I just told the boyfriend that I don’t think I was ever suicidal although upon closer inspection I may be --- tan-tan-tan ---homicidal.

Now, as David Cronenberg once said in an interview, that’s the difference between an optimist and a pessimist.

tumbling sa tumblr

2011-12-24T22:58:00.000-08:00

http://parting-glances.tumblr.com/

Will you please, please teach me how to doggie?

2011-12-09T23:31:00.000-08:00

I tune in to Nat Geo and there’s Cesar Milan. I tune in to HBO and they are showing Haichiko. And oh by the way I just finished reading Marley and Me. Naturally I’m thinking that God wants me to have another dog. But I already have two and I have a small apartment and most of the time the apartment smells like Bio Research.

At night, when I take down the mattress and the blanket, the first to climb into the bed are my two dogs. When the boyfriend sleeps over, Chichi snuggles between us and curl up. Last night, I found myself sleeping on the floor because she has effectively pushed me out of the bed. Chichi’s a bit bipolar. She always has an anxious look on her face. When I still had a balcony, she loved spending lots of time staring at the horizon, thinking of God knows what. I hope she’s not thinking of leaving me because I would cut my arm for her. Marcel, on the other hand, is the cheerful one. He always has a hearty appetite. He would eat everything, even my cable wire. He loves wires. Yesterday, I brought home two large bones for them. He instantly seized the treats and ran to our room. He then spent the entire day cradling and chewing his bone till bedtime. That’s when I realized that I haven’t pampered Marcel enough. But definitely Marcel’s the pilyo one. Just this week, he has acquired the habit of peeing on me. Yes, on me. I was standing near the kitchen when I felt something wet and hot dripping on my calves. When I looked down, there he was the culprit Marcel, running fast away from me. The boyfriend and I have this joke that we call “Marcel ate wut?” Marcel ate what? My shoes! Marcel ate what? The laptop! Marcel ate what? The apartment! One day, I will bring home an anaconda (which I would name Sasa) and I’ll ask “Sasa ate what?” Marcel!

Wut? Arf! Arf!

Recently, I found myself browsing for dogs online. But since I don’t think I could afford having another one, I’m thinking of getting a hamster instead. Maybe I could name him Hamlet. Hamlet, the hamster. That sounds good. If only I could adopt a cat. I already have a name. Catty Perry. Haha.

Marcel, by the way, hates jazz. When I listen to Thelonious Monk (wow, me ganon), he goes berserk. He would run up to me and he would tilt his head back and forth. And then he would let out a howl. He loves books though. He has devoured Ginsberg, Graham Green and Tony Perez. Eclectic taste no. Marcel, after all, was named after a famous French author.

Chichi knows the word longing all too well

Marcel either hates jazz or he thinks he's the reincarnation of thelonious monk

cold night no?

2011-12-09T16:03:00.000-08:00

It was a cold night no? When I went down to buy breakfast at 5am, the streets were a bit foggy. I felt somewhat invigorated even though I was braving the empty streets alone. I’m not too fond of the December rain though. It reminds me of June, a time when my life was basically in shambles. In fact, everything that reminds me of my post-break-up experience immediately sends me into a funk --- the smell of cooking liver, the taste of a tepid gin, damp streets, ,warm empty afternoons, etc. It helps that I’m no longer in my old apartment. “Papatayin ka ng mga alaala,” sabi nga sa libro ni Chris Martinez. I have to admit though when I first moved in to my new apartment I thought the lack of space would drive me crazy. I remember having a quiet afternoon a few weeks ago. The afternoon sunlight flooded the entire apartment and all the light made the small space appear somewhat bigger and in many ways more cheerful. I paused for a bit and sat on the floor with the dogs. I thought it was a beautiful sight: sunlight poured from all the windows and created geometric shapes on the floor. The entire apartment appeared to be glowing. But of course we all know that beauty, as much as it rejuvenates us, also makes us melancholic no? And I did feel a bit melancholic that afternoon but mostly I felt nothing. I just sat on the floor, with my back against the wall, stroking my dogs’ fur over and over again and wondered if I should stay there and wait for evening to arrive.

ano pa ulit yung punchline?

2011-10-26T01:01:00.000-07:00

I’ve been trying to give my life a comedic spin. If I can’t pull it together I thought I might as well make fun of it, di ba? But I just get lost more and more. It’s a nice afternoon. The dogs are sleeping. In my mind I am in Quiapo, walking aimlessly looking for something that probably doesn’t even exist. It’s not that I’m lonely. It’s the fact that the loneliness has become more piercing.

shit

2011-10-11T10:15:00.000-07:00

The truth is I’m so miserable now my mind is about to explode thinking of ways on how I can get out of this abject funk! How the fuck did I end up like this!

waste disposal management

2011-09-29T23:12:00.000-07:00

Woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. It's MJ. Wants me to accompany him to UP. I would've loved to muni-muni in UP pero yun nga I have deadlines. And I need to finish my deadlines because I already need the money. Money is a big problem these days. Money and, well, some other things. I feel shit today, to be honest. So welcome break sana yung UP pero yun nga I have deadlines to do. I'm repeating myself aren't I? Kaloka. I just woke up and I already feel tired. And lonely. And I have deadlines due this afternoon. Okay, so my other half is already flaring up. Enough with the deadline already! Pero I'm still writing this so kung mapapahaba yung entry e di mas made-delay yung deadline. Kaloka. Can I just laugh? Like laughter yoga? Or like Koala in Tinimbang Ka Ngunit Kulang? I don't know. My neck hurts. At hindi siya stiff neck ha! I think I need to lie down and sleep some more. Maybe it's the gin. I drank the gin in the ref after I arrived home from jogging this morning. So there I was, sleepless, tired from the run, lighting cig after cig and drinking gin. Winner. Getsung ko na yang award na yan for best actress in a depressing role, early morning edition. I don't know. For some reason I'm hearing Bono in my head. "How long... How long must we sing this song," he keeps on singing. Yeah. Sunday, fucking bloodly Sunday. But it's just Friday. Pwedeng Cure na lang?

Love according to David Sedaris

2011-09-28T09:43:00.000-07:00

“The picture ended at about ten, and afterward we went for coffee at a little place across the street from the Luxembourg Gardens. I was ready to wipe the movie out of my mind, but Hugh was still under its spell. He looked as though his life had not only passed him by but paused along the way to spit in his face. Our coffee arrived, and as he blew his nose into a napkin, I encouraged him to look on the bright side. “Listen,” I said, “we maybe don’t live in wartime London, but in terms of the occasional bomb scare, Paris is pretty close second. We both love bacon and country music, what more could you possibly want?”

What more could he want? It was an incredibly stupid question and when he failed to answer, I was reminded of just how lucky I truly am. Movie characters might chase each other through the fog or race down the stairs of burning buildings, but that’s for beginners. Real love amounts to withholding the truth, even when you’re offered the perfect opportunity to hurt someone’s feelings. I wanted to say something to this effect, but my hand puppets were back home in their drawer. Instead, I pulled my chair a few inches closer, and we sat silently at our little table on the square, looking for all the world like two people in love.”

- David Sedaris, "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim"

What I picked up on my way to the meat section

2011-08-29T13:40:00.000-07:00

Last Sunday, upon the suggestion of the boyfriend I went to the grocery to finally stuff my refrigerator with real food. For the past several months, I’ve been subsisting on carideria take-outs, tapsilog, and noodles. I also lost a spectacular amount of weight, which, I think is good. I no longer have to run twice a week to upset the calories I’ve been imbibing because of constant beer drinking. But I think the weight-loss can also be attributed to the fact that I have two dogs, an actual busy schedule and an entire apartment all to myself, which means that I’m the only one who does all the cleaning. But I digress.

So there I was at the grocery picking up the necessary items: eggs, butter, bread, etc. I was in front of the meat section wondering what to order when I realized that it doesn’t really matter what I pick. It will just rot like the bangus my mother gave me two months ago, which, I just remembered is still inside the freezer. The fact is I don’t know how to cook. And yes, apparently, I don’t know what to do inside the grocery.

Lately, I’ve realized that I actually don’t know a lot of things. I don’t even know how to defrost a refrigerator. The boyfriend had to call a hotline just so he could tell me how to get rid of the two-inch thick ice inside my freezer. I don’t know how to keep my debts in check. Debts have been piling one after another that now I have to take on several jobs all at the same time just so I could have extra money. My finances give me massive headaches (and nightmares), seriously.

And I don’t even know how to paint a wall. A few weeks ago, I borrowed white paint from my brother to cover the garish yellow wall that my X did. I was already at it when I noticed that the paint was too watery. It just wouldn’t stick. And literally, the paint was splattering all over the place, including on my face because apparently I don’t know how to brush properly. There I was in my underwear, white paint dripping on my chest as I stare up at the wall wondering how on earth I became such a moron. I was fucking Sling Blade!

I don’t even know how to take care of my dogs. When Marcel came, I was too busy moping around and thinking of suicide to actually take care of him. Now, he runs around the apartment peeing and defecating everywhere. He struggles when I bathe him and I have to carry him down the stairs every time I take him out for a walk. I practically know nothing about disciplining dogs. I realized that it was the X who really took care of Chichi even though I have always thought that it was I who took care of her. But now, I’m making up for lost time. I was at a friend’s apartment playing with another dog when suddenly I realized that I never saw Marcel grow up. I don’t remember him as a puppy. I could only really see him now when he’s already as big as Chichi. The realization was pretty heartbreaking.

Apparently, I survived most of my adult life because I had people around to help me. I’ve been sort of like a fungus, never really doing things on my own. The only real decisions I make are where to drink and where to eat. Even career decisions were made by friends. I resigned from a noontime show just because a friend asked me to. Last night after apologizing to the boyfriend (for being such an asshole for the last three months), both of us agreed that I need to grow up. I mean, I can’t even manage to be alone in the apartment much less sleep with the lights off (because I’m, um, scared of ghosts). Just because I earn money, live alone, and have been breathing for the last 33 years doesn’t mean I’m an adult. Technically, I’m still a kid, more specifically a 13 year old kid. A 13 year old kid who was not allowed to go out because he looks helpless and lost all the time. And now I need to grow up fast because in a few years or so white hairs will begin sprouting on my head (and on my nose) and when that time comes and I’m still my current self it will be pretty fucking embarrassing. And yes, though I have decided to be an adult, it doesn’t mean that I already know how to become one. But that, my friends, I have to figure out most probably on my own.

it tastes like shit

2011-08-25T10:23:00.001-07:00

I could taste depression in my mouth. But I’m done with being depressed. Too painful. I think I’m just going to wash it off with Red Horse and call it a night. This has been, so far, one the worst weeks of the year.

pissed off thursday

2011-08-25T10:20:00.000-07:00

It’s pissed off Thursday. Got my salary but most of it went to dog food and bills. I went home, cleaned the house, and went out again to Tomas Morato to meet the boyfriend. I could feel stress crawling like worms inside me. I need a bonggang-bonggang massage. But you see here’s the weird thing. I’m still looking for things to be pissed about like I want to finally push that detonator and blow myself to smithereens.

Night in day

2011-08-12T05:34:00.001-07:00

I was walking home, the mid-noon sun bearing down on me. There was light everywhere and suddenly I was reminded of this poem by Joseph Stroud.

Night in Day

The night never wants to end, to give itself over
to light. So it traps itself in things: obsidian, crows.
Even on summer solstice, the day of light’s great
triumph, where fields of sunflowers guzzle in the sun—
we break open the watermelon and spit out
black seeds, bits of night glistening on the grass

Read this almost a decade ago but it still speaks to me.

to my darling wife leon...

2011-08-12T02:16:00.000-07:00

"To my darling wife, Leon, whom I love more than any man has ever loved another man in all eternity..."

- al pacino, dog day afternoon

please tell me

2011-08-12T02:13:00.000-07:00

Please, please tell me if there is something that I should know, if there is something that I am missing. Is the universe keeping secrets from me? Should I prod a little deeper, search a little further? Is it hidden beneath the flesh? Should I pry it open and swim into my wounds? Is it hidden beneath the sidewalk? Is it in the very air that I breathe? I am practically lost. I seem to be walking around in circles. Really, is there something good for me? Tell me, is there something that I should know?

how to wake a sleeping lover

2011-08-01T10:40:00.000-07:00

The sun pierces through the curtain, turning the light into a happy yellow. He kneels down before his sleeping lover and looks at him. He touches his eyebrows, carefully tracing where the hair begins and where it ends. He realizes that at certain angles he could see parts of himself on his face. Isn’t that usually the case, he thought, we always find clues and hints of ourselves in our lovers? He softly kisses him on the lips and whispers something in his ear. The lover responds absent-mindedly. He smiles.

He looks at his naked body and admires its slenderness, its softness, the curves that his bent leg makes, and the hollow spaces here and there. Spaces he has already conquered but would and could never own. He wraps his arms around his body and run his fingers across his chest and, because it is already mid-noon, tries to wake him up in the gentlest way possible.

i'm running out of cigarettes and fuck it i'm still here

2011-07-17T00:12:00.000-07:00

The sun is out. It’s three o’ clock in the afternoon. It’s a Sunday. I stare at the benches along the strip. The light bounces off the ground, turning the glass panels into mirrors. There is a slight breeze. I’m listening to Morrissey. Beware, he sings, I bear more grudges than high court judges. I wish I was at the Cote d’ Azur, wherever that is.

The heart has rooms and hallways waiting to be explored

2011-07-06T08:58:00.000-07:00

I realized how much I love the boyfriend when I asked about the contents of his netbook. I know that it is a silly thing to do because why would I care about what he puts inside his portable computer when what I should only be caring about are the contents of his heart. But I guess when you are in love you want to know your lover completely. It's like having a new apartment and wanting to inspect every nook and cranny, flashing a light at the dimmed parts, looking for places to hide in and wondering if there are ghosts and if they are haunting still. I don't know about others but this is the way I love. I do know that the request itself is intrusive but it was a genuinely innocent request. I just wanted to know what he keeps inside his folders or if he downloads more pictures than books, videos more than music. And so he gave me a tour, opening the folders and showing me pictures, letting me read his works and in the end revealing poems that were meant for his previous lovers. Since it was past midnight and I just had a tiring day, I asked him to read them for me. "You're being a masochist," he told me but really I wasn't. I was simply curious. So one by one he read poems dedicated to men with simple names, names I wouldn't normally take interest in. The poems were, as expected, beautiful and poignant, containing sadness, longing and pain. As I listened to the boyfriend, his voice soft and undulating, wrapping his emotions around the words he once felt and grieved, I wondered if he also thought of them --- them who had helped him create these sad poems. I wondered too if I was accidentally summoning the ghosts of the past. As I listened, I realized that I was looking at the men the way he used to look at them, with veneration, with love, with lust. It is funny how as I wander inside his netbook, I have found myself walking into uncharted halls and in the process unintentionally getting a glimpse of his heart.

exploding head syndrome

2011-06-22T11:26:00.000-07:00

Lately, I have been having really bad dreams, nightmares actually. And whenever I’m about to have one I could feel my head throb and swell. Usually I end up being half-awake, conscious that I’m still in a dream but helpless enough not to be able to move my body. A few weeks ago, my boyfriend told me about a dream he had at the apartment where a seemingly malevolent entity kept repeating what I said before we slept. Before we went to bed, I asked the boyfriend if he had taken his medicine and in his dream a woman was violently asking him the same question as if mocking him. A few days later, I would experience the same thing where a man kept echoing what I said earlier. It has gotten worse since then. Last Sunday, while we were taking an afternoon nap, I dreamed that I was looking at a dark screen, pitch dark really, and I was shouting at it, trying to coerce the entity into showing his face. Then I saw a silhouette of a man followed in quick succession by several symbols and faces. At one point, I even saw the ex-boyfriend, his face obscured by a strange graphic. My boyfriend and I thought that it has something to do with the apartment. Ever since I started living alone, the apartment has acquired a strange and depressing vibe. Even my friend Aster noticed it. I’ve been thinking of moving out since I am actually depressed most, if not, all of the time. I could only sleep soundly either when I’m drunk or the boyfriend is sleeping over. But this morning I discovered that it’s not the apartment. Of course, it’s me! I just had the weirdest dream here at the boyfriend’s apartment. After my head throbbed and swelled, I heard a little girl’s voice repeatedly saying “Parang awa ninyo na, maawa kayo sa akin.” She kept on going while I tried to gain full-consciousness. It was quite creepy obviously. When I woke up, I went online and found this:

Exploding head syndrome is a mysterious medical condition that causes the sufferer to occasionally experience a loud noise as if from within his/her own head. It is usually described as an explosion, roar or a ringing noise...

The cause of Exploding Head Syndrome is unknown and can be confused with headaches. Parents with children suffering from the condition may confuse it with a nightmare or other trauma… Some physicians have reported its correlation with stress, anxiety, and extreme fatigue.

Interesting, really. I may have the curious case of the Exploding Head Syndrome. However, I still can’t get the girl’s pleading voice out of my fucking head.

coffee in the afternoon, gin at midnight

2011-06-01T04:16:00.001-07:00

I am in a cafe. The weather's a bit nice. Cool. Not sweltering. There is a possibility of rain. Well, apparently a big storm is hitting Manila in a few hours. I'm not exactly feeling well and this is after having a fabulous time with Jed last night and after having a fabulous deal at the computer shop just a few minutes ago. I don't know. Maybe I've been staying at the apartment too long. Maybe I've been paying too much attention to my emotions. But then if you find yourself suddenly crying in the shower, don't you think there is something wrong? It's such a cliche no, crying in the shower. But I think this breakdown is long overdue. Should've had it when I was 25. And yes, maybe that's what I'm currently having: a breakdown.

I watch the stream of people, looking for a familiar face. I see one and he mistakes me for my ex. I normally get mistaken for my brother. I ask him if the ex has been going to their place because I stupidly thought that the he would seek refuge at their church. Hindi pala. He invites me to attend a gay event on Sunday. Maybe that's what I ought to do. Go out and meet people. Maybe I should keep moving. That's what I did after the ex left. I started cleaning my room, started cleaning the kitchen, the bathroom, etc. But then after a few days, the entire place would just eventually rot. It has been a constant struggle keeping the apartment clean.

Out of sheer boredom, I've started videotaping myself. I realized that that there are moments when I am completely still, my hand frozen in mid-air with a cigarette burning between my fingers and my eyes dead, staring at something that's off the frame. I am fascinated and at the same time appalled. So this is what I have become: A zombie. I didn’t realize that I died sometime in the last decade.

Heavy rains have started pouring in. I've repaired inside the cafe. Strong winds snap at the glass windows. I should go to the grocery now. I should start doing my chores. But it's too early. I don't want to end up drinking gin at dinnertime. Maybe my friends were right. I should pull myself together or else I would end up more bruised than before. Anyway, the cafe has started playing a saccharine love song. I should go. My life has become so baduy. Seriously.

5.26.11

last night in hell

2011-05-24T22:31:00.000-07:00

had a tough night. ran out of gin, cigarettes and internet load. ran out of money and ran out of excuses to not look at my pathetic self. got to the point where i was muttering expletives at no one in particular. had a brilliant idea of videotaping my breakdown. in all fairness, i love my slim bod (bwahaha)but beyond that i was in terrible pain. got to the point where i was pacing around the empty but dirty apartment. i was even bothering my (new)boyfriend who is in iligan right now for a workshop. i keep telling myself to not need anyone. to not need a babysitter. to be completely logical and to be immune to the whims of my emotions. it didn't work. i was still drowning. last thing i remember i was lying on my mat, looking at nothing in particular, while Chichi and Marcel kept biting my legs. then i blacked out.

bleach and sadness

2011-05-22T08:20:00.000-07:00

I open the door to our room and see the cushion stripped off of its usual dirty blanket. The room is practically empty apart from the crumpled old shirt lying on the floor filthy with cum and sweat. But I refuse to clean it. I refuse to disinfect the floor, set aside the cushion and throw the blanket and the shirt into the laundry bin. I want it to be just as it was when we left it this morning. I want last night’s memory to be briefly frozen in time. It feels easier this way I guess because if I do take them away what will remain are sepulchral white walls and tiles that will only reek of bleach and sadness.

5.22.11

Meet Marcel

2011-05-09T02:10:00.000-07:00

Meet Marcel. He is a terrier slash Labrador slash Azkal. Yes, just like Phil Younghusband (only cuter and hairier?). The first time he came to the apartment he was with a cute, young poet. When I opened the door, I immediately noticed the cute smile on the poet’s face and I thought: Man, I’m so going to get laid tonight!

No, that was a joke.

But before I could ask him to come in he said: “Someone wants to meet you.” And I thought shet finally Piolo has received my e-mails! And then he showed me little Marcel wrapped in a white blanket. My heart, as expected, quickly did a somersault. Twice!

I have been planning on getting another dog since the X left. I noticed that Chichi was also experiencing some kind of depression. Every time I would leave for work, she would bite my ankle and bark endlessly until I was out of the apartment. Both of us, I think, were drowning. On certain nights, I would look at her and she would look at me and she would stand up and wait by the door while I would lock myself in my room trying to wage a full battle with my own depression.

The first night was a bit stressful. My greatest fear was that Chichi will never get over the fact that someone will now share the apartment with her. She barked at him all night while he snuggled between the sheets. Fortunately by the next day the two were already play-biting.

As a result the apartment is almost always a mess. I spend almost half of my time cooking and cleaning-up after the two dogs. Every time I arrive at the apartment there will be scoops of poop in some parts while puddles of pee in others. The good thing though is that Chichi no longer harasses me whenever I go out. I think she’s a bit okay now although she has grown considerably thinner. I hope she regains her I appetite but then she has always been picky with food. Marcel, on the other hand, eats everything. But yes, it’s no longer an apartment with dogs but dogs with an apartment and for the meantime I’m just crashing at their place.

my life in bits and pieces

2011-04-18T22:58:00.000-07:00

1.

Because I realized I needed something to inspire me on a daily basis, I took out some of the pictures I’ve taken and photos that I had somehow collected all these years and pasted them on my wall. Dito makikita ang litrato ng aking ama, ni ex-boyfriend, litrato ko, mga samu’t saring invitations, postcards at posters na for some reason hindi ko itinapon.

2.

My first and only tape recorder. It’s a relic compared to the mp3 recorders that print writers use these days. But this one has served me well. I’ve interviewed artists, filmmakers, interior designers, wine makers, musicians, composers, opera singers, ballet dancers and some shitty public servants using this recorder. I still use it although now when I playback the interview it always sounds as if I’m interviewing Mickey Mouse.

3.

Because I needed to keep track of my schedule and deadlines, I have begun listing them on a white board. Kasama na rin ang utang para hindi makalimutan. Of course I get the greatest pleasure whenever I erase one from the list.

Sa left makikita ang publicity still ng isang Chinese gay film (Lan Yu yata ito) at sa taas naman litrato ko nuong ako’y mataba pa. Sa isang litrato makikitang ini-interview ko si Lav Diaz. Ang tanong ko lang sa kanya: Do you think art can foster peace? Naaalala ko it was a long but very interesting interview.

4.

Medal from my first fun run. I know everybody had a medal so what’s the use. I felt dorky wearing the medal around the field after the run. The experience was fun though that eventually we got hooked on running.

Ang litrato ng hubad na lalaking may camera ay galling sa kauna-unahang gay film festival sa Manila. It was in Glorietta, back at the time when there was a cinema (pretentiously) called Art Film. Duon rin ang kauna-unahang trabaho ko. Alam kong bading na ako nun pero hindi pa ako naga-out. It helped that I was surrounded by gay people and that I was watching gay films almost every day.

5.

Feng-shui compass given by a, well, feng-shui expert. Minsan ko na ring sinubukang maging feng-shui friendly ang apartment pero dahil hindi naman ako eksperto sa paggamit ng compass natakot ako na baka si Lotus Feet ang matawag ko imbes na swerte.

6.

Pipe from Sagada, a piece of a keychain from Thailand. I never knew how to make a paper pipe so I always end up falling for cute guys who do. My ex-boyfriend’s friend lives and works in Thailand and whenever she would come home to Manila she would always crash at our place. It was she who gave me the keychain. I think I should give her a visit one of these days.

7.

A piece of an earphone. I was on the train going home and I think I received a text message from my ex-boyfriend that seriously ticked me off. I was in the middle of a busy, busy workweek and suddenly I just blew it. I was so angry, at myself, at my life, at my ex-boyfriend that when I couldn’t untangle the earphone I just pulled it until it was torn apart. The other earpiece fell on the station and when a lady saw it on the floor she called my attention. As a thank you, I just gave a go-fuck-yourself-mind-your-fucking-business look.

When I saw this earphone today I was suddenly reminded of Van Gogh’s ear. Not that I’m implying anything.

x-files

2011-04-14T16:11:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s official. My five year relationship is over. It has been over for almost two weeks now but it was just this morning that he finally packed his bag and left our apartment. The very same apartment where we ate, slept, and fucked for almost four years.

But yes I was the one who broke up with him. I broke up with him because I realized that in the last three years we were together I have begun to hate him. He knows why I hate him.

But yes he did take very good care of me. He cleaned my apartment, prepared my meals, gave me massages every night, took care of my dog and perhaps even loved me. I don’t know. I’m just trying to be fair. I did love the guy. In fact, I was hoping that he would still stay here at the apartment but then last night I got drunk and thinking that since we had broken up a week before it would be okay to bring home a guy.

Well, surprise!

As soon as he left, the first thing I noticed was the pervading silence that seemed to have enveloped the apartment. I turned the TV on, brought the volume up, and opened the door and windows but of course I knew it was useless. What I was hearing, ping-ponging between my ears, was the sound of someone leaving. It was the void that someone usually leaves after a break-up and it cannot in any way be filled by mere noises.

04.10.11

Bluer than blue

2011-04-04T13:56:00.001-07:00

Okay, I should be working now. I have at least two deadlines due tomorrow --- no, later today. It’s already five in the morning. I’ve downed two cups of brewed coffee, finished at least a pack of Marlboro Black, fucked two guys (joke!), and still I couldn’t get any work done. I don’t know. Lately I’m all about living in tra-la-la land. So instead of starting on my deadlines, I am in front of the laptop cam doing a Stevie Wonder impersonation. I know I’m going to regret this in the morning (because it’s so disgustingly idiotic and narcissistic and I'm 32 years old for crying out loud. I shouldn't be spending too much time on the net. I should be, like, I don't know, outside trying to save the dolphins or running for peace or anything that will make this world liveable).

But what hell, just for one night no?

Tiyo Packs and his super duper friends

2011-04-01T04:24:00.001-07:00

Tiyo Packs, may problema. Ang bulkan mukhang sasabog ulit. Kailangan ng tulong natin!
Ah, ganun ba?

Napakunot ng ulo si Tiyo Pack. “Tang-ina naman o,” pagmumura niya sa sarili. Hate na hate niya ito kahit kakaiba ang high na nadarama niya tuwing nakakatulong siya. “O diyos ko, kelan ba matatapos ang paghihirap kong ito!” patuloy na pagrereklamo niya.
Tumingin tingin siya sa kanyang paligid. Nasa isang sosyalerang café siya sa isang four star hotel sa Makati. “Tang-ina talaga!” sigaw niya. Mabilis niya nilabas ang kanyang portable player at sinalang ang isang mala-gintong CD. Insert lens flare effect. Isang masayang beat ang biglang umistorbo sa tahimik na café.

“A la tuhuelpa legria macarena
Que tuhuelce paralla legria cosabuena
A la tuhuelpa legria macarena Eeeh, macarena
A-Hai 2x"

“You like this huh?” sabi ni Tiyo Packs sa mga tao habang gumigiling giling. “You like this?”

Natulala ang mga nasa café sa kahihiyang pinaggagawa ni Tiyo Packs. Dancing the Macarena? In the middle of the afternoon? In Shang Makati? You must be kidding. With a big, bulging stomach and a receding hairline, Tiyo Packs is truly a heinous crime to the eyes. Think Bentong.

Pagkatapos ng pangalawang chorus, sumigaw siya nang: SHUKAB! Pinalibutan ng ilaw at usok ang buong katawan ni Tiyo with such glorious effects that it would have been perfect for an opening number of a 1989 Gary V concert. Nang mawala na ang ilaw at usok, ang natira na lang ay isang lalaking sukdulan ng kamachohan at kagwapuhan. Think Piolo Pascual in black leather tights and silver cape. He looked around and dashed towards the exit and flew into the air. Like Darna.

Later in their headquarters in a girly bar in QC, Tiyo Pack is complaining.

"A.Yo.Ko na. Taas na ang kamay ko! Suko na ako! Ayoko nang magsayaw ng macarena!"

"Tiyo kailangan ng mga tao ang tulad mo. Besides it’s not like you’re the only one who has to endure such embarrassment," sabi ng isang disisieteng babaing naka-bikini habang gumigiling to the tune of "Don't Let Me Be the Last to Know" ni Britney.

"May point si Enlightened One kapatid," sabi ng isa sa mga wonder twins. "It's a small sacrifice para sa kapakanan ng sanlibunan."

"Alam mo bang kanina habang sumasayaw ako sa gitna ng Shang, nakita ako ng titser ng bunso ko. My god, halos umiyak na ako sa hiya."

"The system has already erased from their memory that incident," sabi ni Enlightened One habang bumubukaka at hinihimas-himas ang kanyang dibdib. Sinundan ni Tiyo Packs ng tingin ang mga mapuputing daliri nito habang ito ay labas pasok sa maliit na bikini top. "The system is efficient and incapable of commiting any mistakes. Hanggang sa kanilang subconsciousness nabura na nito ang iyong brief production number."

Tutok pa rin si Tiyo Packs sa ginagawa ni Enlightened One. "Pero madam," he said. "I'm not worried about them. I'm worried about me. What about me? Pakiramdam ko parati isa akong maduming tao. Isang... pervert!"

Napabuntong hininga ang isa sa mga Wonder Twins.

"Tell me about it," sabi niya. "Alam mo bang nasa counselling si Yam ngayon. I think he has fallen in love with me."

"Yikes."

"Kanina was the worse. We were having merienda with our parents when the call came."

Cue flashback: Tingiling-ngiling

Earlier that day, nasa isang munting family gathering sina Yam and Yin kasa-kasama ang kanilang mga respective girlfriends nang nagalerto.Tulad ng dati, ang tanging paraan lang para makapag-transform sila sa kanilang mga super selves ay mag-kiss. And not just a simple kiss but french kiss.

"Ew."

"Talagang isang malaking 'ew'. Nakaka-trauma talaga. Kitang kita ko ang mga reaction nila. Habang papalapit ng papalapit kami sa isa't isa halos mamatay na ako sa hiya. At nung nag-embrace na kami, narinig ko ang nanay namin na magmura. For the first time in her life, nagmura si Mommy. Si Daddy naman, susugod sa amin para suntukin kami. It was crazy!"

"What about your girlfriends?"

"They were shocked. No, they were more than shocked. It was insane."

"Tingnan mo Enlightened One. Masyado kaming nagsu-suffer psychologically."

Umiling na lang si Yin.

"Pre, I know how you feel."

"No, pare, you don't know how I feel. Ikaw konting sayaw lang, lipad ka na. Pero kami pare, iba. Pare, incest yun eh. Incest. My psychological damage na kami."
"Speaking of weng-weng, nandyan na ang tol-uts mo."

Umupo si Yam sa lamesa. Halos hindi maipinta ang mukha.

"What are you talking about..." tanong niya.

"Kamusta ka, Yam?" tanong ng gumigiling na babae.

"I'm ok, I guess. Why do you ask?"

"Wala lang,” sabi ni Enlightened One. “Chumichika lang. Bakit ba? Sensitive much?”

But Yam was obviously crestfallen. No, he looked like he was about to smash three San Miguel Pale Pilsens on his head and use the shards to slit his wrists and scoop his eyes balls. Yes, just like Oedipus. Iko-comfort sana ni Yin si Yam pero parang ilag ito sa mga mata ng kapatid. Nang subukang akbayan ni Yin si Yam, biglang itong napangiwi at tuluyang lumayo.

"This is ridiculous!" sigaw ni Yin. "I'm going to the loo at pagbalik ko magusap tayo. Christ!"

Sakto naman papasok si Tiya Ina.

“O what happened to Yin,” she asked the group.

“WALA!” sigaw ni Yam na mabilis tumayo. “Magyo-yosi lang ako sa labas.”

“Oh dear, look at what’s happening to us,” said Tiya Ina.

“I know right,” sabi naman ni Tiyo Packs. “Kamusta ka naman?”

“Kailangan pa bang itanong?”

Cue flashback: Tingiling-ngiling

Nang nag-alerto naman kanina, nasa classroom ulit si Tiya Ina aka Teacher Ina. As
usual, para makapag-transform siya, kinakailangan niyang magtanggal ng salawal, tumuwad at umihi. Sa harap ng kanyang klase. Na composed of 4 year old kids.
“Alam mo bang kanina si Kenneth, yung special kid na kinukwento ko sa inyo, nakatingin ulit sa akin. At alam mo, feeling ko, natatandaan niya yung transformation ko last time. Enlightened One, I think he knows. I think HE KNOWS! There’s a glitch in the system.”

“Babae, huminahon kah! That. Is. Ridiculous!” sabi ng seksing babae. “As I was telling Tiyo Packs kanina…”

“I know, I know but…”

“Gusto mo pagmagta-transform tayo magkita na lang tayo,” suggest ni Tiyo Packs.

“Tiyo kadiri ka ha! Ayoko nga makita ang pagsasayaw mo.”

“Besides,” said the Enlightened One. “It doesn’t work that way. You have to suffer first before you can transform. It’s the rule. Once you get even a teeny-weeny bit of pleasure from it then your superpowers will be forfeited.”

“Yun nga ang gusto kong i-suggest,” sabi ni Tiyo Packs na binaling naman ang tingin sa mga hita ng dalaga. “Pwede bang at a certain time lang yung mga kakahiyan? Pagkatapos ng trial period wala na. Magiging parang si Superman na lang kami o kaya si Darna. Yung transformation nagyayari sa isang secret place at hindi sa harap ng maraming tao?

"When you were chosen, we specifically told you that this wouldn't be easy," reply ng kanilang pretty but yummiluous na bosing habang inaalis niya ang kanyang bikini top. "Kailangan ng isang matinding sacrifice para walang magabuso ng power. Kung sino man ang maging katulad ninyo siguradong nandun dahil gusto ninya tumulong."

"Pero hindi ba ang pagtulong at ang pagsagip sa mga tao at paglagay sa aming mga buhay sa kapahamakan at peligro ay isa nang sacrifice," pagrarason ni Tiya Ina.

"No, thats your privilege. Not everybody can do that on a weekly basis. Kung minsan kinakailangan muna nilang mapunta sa right place at the right time para maging heroes."

"But that’s unfair."

“Tell me about it. Sa tingin mo gusto ko ang ginagawa ko,” sabi ni Enlightened One habang ang kanyang mumurahing boobs ay nagda-dangling dangling sa madlang people. And mind you, not just madlang people but horny, uncouth madlang people.

At that point, biglang tumugtog sa speakers ang isang matinding disco beat. Naghiyawan ang mga kalalakihan.

"Pu.Tang. Ina!" sabi ni Enlighted One. "Eto ang pinaka-ayoko eh."

Hindi umimik si Tiyo Packs. Sa speakers maririnig na ang suwabeng suwabeng boses ng isang DJ.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to get hot and wild!!!"

“Wooooooooooh!” sabi ng mga lalaking tugtog palang tinitigasan na.

Mula sa likod ng stage, isa pang babae ang lumabas na nakasuot ng skimpy bikini rin.

May dalang --- guess what? --- tabo at sabon.

"Huy, pare, kumurap ka naman, " sabi ni Yam habang umuupo sa kanyang upuan.

“Ha?”

“Kumurap ka naman, sabi ko.”

“Hay, this is ridiculous!” sabi ni Tiya Ina habang nagwo-walk out.

Nagtungo si Enlightened One sa gitna ng stage at nagsimulang magtampisaw sa batya’t magpabula ng cheap na sabon. Wala nang maririnig na usapan, lahat ata nagrevert na sa pagiging hayop dahil ang tanging maririnig na lamang ay ang mga hiyawang tila-alulong ng aso at ang nakakabinging kanta ni Britney Spears.

Up music

Tent-tenen-tenenen… Don’t! Don’t let me be the last know! Don’t! Don’t hold back, don’t let me gow! I need you here with me… I need you all the way…”

At sa gitna ng stage, underneath the harsh, harsh spotlight, si Enlightened One, ang pinaka-leader ng pinaka-bonggang grupo ng pinaka-super duper na heroes in this side of the planet nag-hubo’t hubad at… wait for it… wait for it… nagpakain ng kepyas!

chichi is pure love

2011-03-09T08:51:00.000-08:00

At first I thought it was cute. We were running side by side. I was speeding up but she stayed beside me, gaining speed as well. Her tongue was sticking out of her muzzle. Her cute little ears were pointing backwards and her tail was wagging in the air. And every time she wandered away from me all I had to do was call her name and she would be with me again. And yes I thought: Look at us sweetie, aren’t we cute? An athletic (athletic daw o!) gay guy and his beloved dog out for a run, isn’t the idea cute? If I saw us I’d turn to Cassandra and say: Cassie, look at that cute guy with an unruly beard and his equally cute dog, aren’t they cute? I’d do him in a heartbeat.

Kalurkei ang thought right?

But then Chichi saw another dog and ran after him. Instantly thoughts of cuteness were erased from my mind as I sprinted across the oval in pursuit of them. As I ran after Chichi who was running after another dog I was reminded of a romcom from the famous ‘90s. Kulang na lang tumawag sa akin si Ruppert Everette at sabihing: She’s running after him, you are running after her, but who’s running after you?

Cue music.

“What the world needs now is love sweet love/ it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of…”

Julia Roberts lang davah? When I finally got hold of Chichi, my heart was about to ricochet out of my mouth. It was definitely not as cute as I had initially thought.

my life as an oscar speech

2011-02-27T23:50:00.000-08:00

I wish my life was like an Oscar acceptance speech delivered by Colin Firth or Tom Stoppard, a speech peppered with self-deprecation, funny in some parts and earnest in others but ultimately moving, eloquent, and more importantly momentous.

Marcel the dog

2011-02-10T20:51:00.000-08:00

Marcel has always been a finicky eater. He calls him Marcel, after Marcel Proust who after sniffing bread sat down and wrote a terribly long novel. Marcel — not the French writer, but his dog, has a pretty good memory. Sometimes he would watch him run around the house retrieving toys he, himself, had forgotten buying. Whenever they visit his mother’s house, he would watch in amusement as Marcel pranced around the garden, knowing exactly where to go. He has done research on this, about the memories of dogs. He read in some online journal that dogs actually don’t remember anything. But once they smell their owner or hear their voice, the memory suddenly comes alive. They suddenly remember. How poetic, he thought. He thought of love.

He got Marcel at a low point in his life. Before he arrived, he voraciously read books on dogs. He knew for example that puppies should be put on a crate, that no matter how piercing their cries were the owner should leave them there. During Marcel’s first night, when it was time for him to go to bed he gingerly scoop Marcel up and put him down on his crate. Upon discovering that he is in a cage, Marcel let out a faint but relentless cry. He went around with his tiny feet slowly sinking into the soft cushion and desperately tried to find an exit. Marcel’s desperation proved to be too much for him, he who needed Marcel more than Marcel needed him. He bent down the crate, cautiously tucked him into his two hands and brought him to his own bed. Marcel crawled across the mountainous pillows and travelled across the vast old blanket and found a dark, comfy spot right between his shoulder and his boyfriend’s head.

The boyfriend was against the dog at first. The apartment is too tiny, he said, and they were too busy. But soon he and the boyfriend were exchanging duties. If he was going to walk him then the boyfriend would be the one to give him a bath. If the boyfriend is cooking his food then he would clean the mess on the floor. One night, he came home and found his boyfriend dozing with Marcel tucked under his arms. He stood at the door facing the darkened bedroom with light pouring from behind and he felt something stir inside of him.

Marcel grew up to be painfully shy, retreating when in a crowd but cheerful when left alone. Curiously enough, he was much like him who always preferred to be solitary. Nevertheless he thought Marcel to be a charming and obedient little companion. Things only changed when fights between him and the boyfriend became more and more frequent. There would be nights when Marcel would stay up late, snooping around and scratching at the furniture. He slept fitfully too and had developed odd habits. At exactly eight in the evening, always at eight, he would stand before the front door barking. He would go on and on for about an hour, refusing to be moved and stopping only when his voice got hoarse. Afterwards, he would repair to the bathroom and slip between the wall and the door and mope. He has been like this for a year. In some ways, he is like Hachiko who waited for nine years at the Shibuya Station for his dead master, the old professor, Professor Ueno. He saw that movie, too, along with Marcel and he cried incessantly for two hours while Marcel licked his feet. Sometimes when the barking became too grating he would think of hitting him but he never did. Once, however, he kicked at the door and screamed at Marcel: “He is never coming back!” But he felt so guilty afterwards that he decided to spend his evenings in a nearby café from then on. At exactly eight, he would be there sipping black coffee and he would wonder if the dog has stopped barking. But even though they were a couple of blocks apart, he knew the dog still did.

He has thought of getting rid of him but he loves him too much. He loves him so deep that even if he reminded him of a painful memory — of a break-up that refuses to be forgotten — he went on loving him, cradling him when he’s lonely, amusing him when he is bored, and patiently feeding him, he, who is a finicky eater and who never ever forgets.

Shoot and roll

2011-02-08T15:30:00.000-08:00

Kung minsan kapag ang tagal ng shoot tapos uwing-uwi na ako nagkakaroon ako ng existential crisis. Bakit pa nga naman kakaririn ang paggawa ng isang imaginary world kung ang totoong buhay naman natin ay one big mess? Bakit pa iisipin kung tama ang linya, perfect ang make-up at moving ang acting eh pag-step out ko naman ng set chaos rin ang sasalubong sa akin? At dun wala nang take-two take-two.

Sometimes I find it absurd.

Pero in hindsight perhaps that’s the reason we create to at least have some semblance of control over our ever messy lives.

But really what I just want to say with this page-emoemohan post is that I actually had fun shooting with film last Saturday. Part kasi ng requirement namin sa class ay gumawa ng isang short at lahat kami pinaghati-hatian ang mga sequences. Iba pala pag film na ang gamit mo. Dahil alam mong mahal ito at hindi pinupulot lang kung saan saan ang mga rolyo bago ka pa mag-take ilang ulit mong ire-rehearse ang mga artista. At pag sumilip ka na sa viewfinder at sinabi mong “Rolling…” may pipitik at magfi-flicker flicker sa harap mo. Yung film para pala siyang si Frankenstein, it’s alive! It's Alive! And when you say “Action!” makikita mo nang gumagalaw ang mga tao sa loob ng rectangle na box and for some weird reason it really feels like you are watching life for the very first time.

Man with a camera (I know I really need to lose weight. Mapagkakamalan na naman akong kapatid ko.)

Mino-motivate ang actress kahit isang shot lang. Na 5 seconds ang itatagal. (haha)

Shooting the last scene na ang magiging itsura ay...

Eto. Tan-tan-tan! Pero siempre hindi mawawala ang...

Borlog shot. Dahil parating wala akong silbi sa mga shoots. Sana lang pasok sa banga ang continuity at hindi overexposed ang rolyo!

PS Salamat kay Jheck sa mga photos.

Get crazy with the CheezeWhiz

2011-01-28T11:55:00.000-08:00

Because I can’t seem to wrap my brain around the article I’m currently writing (about a cute artist whose work I’m actually interested in), I started downloading songs from the ‘90s. Beck. Crash Test Dummies. Stone Temple Pilots. Barenaked Ladies. Tori Amos. Sleeps With Butterflies actually sends me back to a time when Manila was wet and cold and I’m in love and filled with longing.

But yes, yes, I know what about REM, Smashing Pumpkins and Pearl Jam? They have been on rotation ever since I started bringing a walkman around that they no longer evoke nostalgia and I’m all about nostalgia tonight. I realized that if it’s still the 90s I’d fit right in because the 90s was all about angst and alienation. Part of the pleasure of buying cassettes and CDs then was reading the sleeves and basking in the coolness of my favorite bands. I even treated the lyrics as poetry, something to decipher and relish. I’d lose sleep trying to figure out what the fuck does Beck mean when he sings:

“You can’t write if you can’t relate/ Trade the cash for the beef for the body for the hate/ And my time is a piece of wax fallin’ on a termite/ who's chokin’ on the splinters.”

I mean what does he mean by that?

“Soy un perdedor
I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?”

When I was a kid my twin brother and I would hang-out with our much older pamangkin (who turned out to be our older brother --- long story). He was into RCs (wow, sobrang 80s di ba?), skateboard and music. The RC and skateboard, we could dig but rock music? But one day, he told us, we would finally dig it and his words, to me at least, sounded prophetic. True enough, around the time when the Eraserheads released their first song, the one where Ely curses, I was finally hooked.

Haggard much?

2011-01-17T12:22:00.000-08:00

I could feel my eyes popping out. For the last several days I’ve been working all night just to beat my deadlines. It took me almost three days to transcribe, write and edit an article and another two days to finish a script. Ang bagal ko na teh. Well, to be honest mabagal ako kasi I spend most of the time chatting on Planet Romeo. Kamusta naman di ba? Di talaga ako matatapos nun. Kasi naman guys, stop messaging na! Echos. Arte lang.

Technique ko kasi yun para mas makapag-concentrate (weh? I-justify pa ba). No, seriously, I couldn’t focus on what I’m writing if I’m, um, trying to focus solely on the article alone. Ang labo noh. Pero antidote ko yun sa katamaran. E di kapag inutugan, mag-sulat ka na. Buhay na ang dugo eh. Kasi mga kids, ang pagsusulat kailangan parating may libog (wahaha!).

Hanep sa lecture, right? Kanina nga, para lang matapos na ako sa isang AVP script hinostage ko na ang mga bossing at tinapos ko na mismo sa harapan nila. Para wala nang balikan. Move on na.

Actually hindi pa ako pwedeng mag-move on, wala pa yung tseke eh. Meron pa kaya akong dalawang articles na dapat tapusin pa. Nag-promise pa naman ako nai-email ko tonight. Well, good luck alas-kwatro na, ano na ang nagawa ko, wala pa. Wala na ngang nagagawa, nag-blog pa. Sushal. And who’s going to pay for this post? Myself? Ano na namang kagagahan ito?

Owel, kasi naman pre, tustado na ang utak ko. Sana sumama na lang ako kay Jed kanina nung niyaya niya akong mag-Mogwai. Parang ganun din lang kasi eh. Mas makakatulog pa ako kaagad dahil for sure magpapakalasing na naman ako because I’ll be with my best friend, you know, Red Horse. I think some of you have already met her. Her nga ba o him? Lintek na trip rin ito hanapan ba ng gender ang isang boteng brown, patulis, na may kabayong tatak at malakas ang tama… e di siempre hindi girl yun, boy. Boy!

Leche, gaguhan na ito. Makabalik na nga sa Planet Romeo.

End scene

haggardness na expression. like, you know, put a balloon there that says: sheeeesh! para kunwaring haggard na haggard na. teka why am i talking to an imaginary graphic artist. why do i keep finding scratches on my back? and what is this feather doing on my shoulder?!!! in fairness, hindi na ako si travis bickle. ako na si natalie portman. I'm perfect... almost perfect! eto totoo na...

End scene.

Piolo, I dreamed of you last night. Did you dream of me too?

2011-01-03T19:39:00.000-08:00

Jan. 4, 2011
Tuesday
9:34am
Dream sequence

I was following Piolo Pascual around. The reason is unclear. I’m not sure if I was interviewing him for a magazine or I was just kibitzing. I was walking around in a commercial district when I saw him. He recognized me and then there I was following him around. We were in Cubao X or someplace similar.

Suddenly we had to attend a film awards and I had nothing to wear. Piolo offers to lend me some of his clothes so we go to a changing room. Piolo tells his assistant to find me something to wear. I should note that he was not at all warm --- he was aloof and guarded. A stylist joins us. She was accompanying Piolo to the event. Piolo tells her that I needed an outfit. She half-heartedly picks one for me. She also picks out a necklace with a huge blue brooch in the middle. This will look good on you, she said. I put it on and I look ridiculous. I would take it off when they weren’t looking. The assistant gives me another outfit, which I finally wear. It was a white top made in something like pina. She tells me it’s expensive. I ask her how much it costs. Eight thousand, she says and I thought keribelles lang. I don’t have to worry about spilling something on it.

I was finally in the event with Michael who apparently wrote the script. Now, it’s no longer a film awards but a beauty contest. The announcer introduces the girls and ends with the phrase “umagang kay ganda,” which I found a bit silly but fabulous nonetheless. Michael is giddy with delight. He loves beaucons. Our boss joins us and explains why the phrase “umagang kay ganda” works.

Now there is a young girl in a hideous cheap gown coming out of a chapel or a function room. I’m not exactly her but I see everything from her point of view. She buys fishballs and proceeds to the car to eat it. She’s trying not to spill on the dress but somehow I knew it was inevitable. She was going to spill something on it and get upset. A distraught friend joins her.

The friend then turns into Jen and we were somewhere along Elliptical Road hailing a cab. We were with my brother. Jen is seriously upset. She doesn’t tell me why but there is a grave look on her face. I invite her for a drink and she agrees. We were in a jeepney and a passenger climbs in. It is Tonio. Finally we decide to drink somewhere in North Edsa so we change rides. We go to a sorry-looking bus terminal and climb into a mini-bus. Jen sits behind me and chats with the other passengers who turn out to be her friends. In front of me was Juliet, a classmate from college. We chat briefly and she mentions that one of our classmates is now in the US working for a Japanese animation company, which was surprising because she never had any interest in animation.

Now, Jen is talking non-stop about her former boyfriend. She is, as usual, upset about their relationship. We were in Edsa walking towards SM North. She tells me that her ex-boyfriend now earns big bucks, bigger in fact than a doctor’s but still he treats her with hostility. As we were about to cross the highway, a huge rally comes in along with a few cute foreigners. There was something ridiculous about their outfits but I no longer remember what they looked like.

I woke up with Chichi sleeping beside me. It was a fitful night for me. I would wake up every few hours or so for no reason at all.

Saved by Lady Gaga

2010-12-31T12:45:00.000-08:00

1pm. Was woken up by Lady Gaga’s Bad Romance. I don’t know if the speakers were so loud that it woke me up or my booty just couldn’t help but dance to the song (Ay caramba… you know I love you I love your romance… Wehehehe!). As I sashayed out of the bedroom I remembered the dream that I just had. No, actually it wasn’t just a regular dream it was a nightmare. I was back at work and our taping was about to start and I haven’t written the script yet. Everyone is already on the set --- the hosts and guests --- and our executive producer is nagging me to hurry up. Only I can’t seem to write even a simple sentence because I’m way too fucked-up to write anything. I kept thinking: This used to be easy what the fuck happened? Then I woke up and realized it was just a dream. Yes, I actually told myself to calm down and let it go because it’s only a dream. But then I dozed off and there I was again in the middle of a taping still with no script in hand. If it wasn’t for Lady Gaga I would still be in dreamland trying to write the script that refuses to be written.

Obviously this has something to do with my impending deadlines. Out of the five things that I should have accomplished during the break, I’m still on the first one.

5pm. Our neighbors seem to have all of their stereos on full blast. Even if we’re on the fourth floor, it feels like I’m sitting beside the speaker. Chichi paces around the house, evidently perturbed with all the noise. I’m watching Mxy, even the TV is loud. I go online and read the predictions. My horoscope says I’ll be so busy next year I might die from exhaustion. Good, hope it actually comes true. I need to be busy.

8pm. Having my first real meal of the day. Starting at this hour the gorging begins diet be damned. The boyfriend and my mother are preparing food in the kitchen. I’m trying to learn how to use Adobe Premiere. Trying is the operative word. Apparently I don’t have the patience. I always thought that video editing is a man’s job, sort of like cinematography and graphic design. I mean, I rarely meet a cameraman or an editor who is proudly gay. Although some put out daw after a few bottles of beer or so some gay friends say.

9.36pm. Watching Hangover. Four men take on Las Vegas. After a night of heavy partying they wake up with no clue as to what transpired in the last 24 hours. Now they go around Vegas looking for their missing friend. Yeah, it’s Dude Where’s My Car part deux. Is this a guy fantasy? Being so drugged and drunk that they no longer remember what happened the night before? As in “Shit, pare last night was a blast. If only I knew what actually happened.” And his dude pare friend would say: “Shit, pare dude mhen you had a six-inch cock right up in your ass and you liked it. No, pare, you loved it! Mhen you were moaning. You were moaning real good.” And then the guy would ask: “Mhen, pare, shit no wonder my ass is hurting. Who was it pare?” And his friend would say: “Mehn, pare, forgive me but it was me, pare.” And then there would be an awkward silence until one of them accidentally brushes his arm on his friend’s ass and instantly they would be on the floor doing it again rabbit style.

Sorry, I got carried away. I’m not exactly into the movie. I’m more of a Sex and the City type of gal. I’m just waiting for Star Trek to come on.

11:45pm. The putukan starts. It’s annoying. Friends start to send text messages. I was surprised that some text messages came from people I haven’t seen in a long time. Now, smoke starts to creep inside the house. On TV, a newscaster is egging the people to countdown with them. Fuck you, I say. It’s Chichi’s first New Year and quite fittingly she’s sulking.

12.36am. Great it’s already 2011. Now, I have to really buckle up and finish my deadlines. But 2010 was so good to me…Went back to school to take my MA, was able to travel blah-blah-blah. But of course for me the most significant moment of 2010 was when I finally got Chichi. The first time we met she immediately went to the bushes and defecated. Since then I’ve been having a grand time cleaning her shit. God bless her cute puppy soul.

4.15am. Still not done editing my project. Holy fucking shit!

Defying gravity

2010-12-24T05:33:00.000-08:00

It’s only 8:30 and our concerned and thoughtful neighbors are already playing their 2010 greatest hits collection. They are such lovely neighbors no? I think they’ll serenade us till dawn, you know, so we wouldn’t feel so blue. I just know that Chichi will have a heart attack once the putukan starts later this evening. Poor Chichi. Hope I’m not too drunk later so I could videotape him going berserk. Just kidding.

I’m trying to get drunk before midnight. Why? Wala lang bakit ba? I’m inside my room drinking gin and coke and munching on pizza while downloading some songs and blogging. Multi-tasking ito teh! And so Mark Zuckerberg, right? By the way, have you read Time Magazine’s article on him? Mark is obsessed daw of eliminating anonymity on the net. No, that’s the wrong perception pala of people. All that Mark wants is to bring people closer. Yeah, like Planet Romeo. In fact, after reading the issue, which was great by the way (I actually understood what Wikileaks is all about), I thought of picking out a Person of the Year for this blog. I already thought of an intro: “For his ability to influence nobody but himself and perhaps his dog (although arguably his dog is more influential than him because when she barks, he takes notes) and his illuminating discovery that there is no such thing as hitting rock bottom but there is a great abyss of infinite darkness, may I present this blog’s Person of the Year, the self-avowed patron saint of losers and the libidinous weirdos… Me!

Surprised? Of course not. But please forgive me for the lack of accompanying portrait. Busy pa daw si Annie Leibovitz. Echos.

Two years ago, my song of the year was Avenue Q’s “It Sucks to be Me.” It was literally my song of the year because I actually listened to it from January to December. By December naintindihan ko na ang lyrics and I thought: I don’t suck. I’m straight. Echos part deux. This year, I think it was the Beach Boy’s “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” only because I had no time to download some songs. I remember listening to it on a cold January evening while struggling to… Oh who cares? What is more interesting is next year’s song of the year, right? Despite Globe Tattoo’s impressively glacial speed, I was able to download it. It’s none other than… Wicked’s Defying Gravity!

Ang bago ng kanta no? This is in preparation for my 2011, which is bleaker than our chance of winning gold in the Winter Olympics. Bleak as in snowstorm get it? Get it? Ang labo no?

Hoy Rik, hand me my pointy hat and broom and cue the spotlight!

“Something has changed within me… Too late to go back to sleep! It’s time to trust my instincts… A time to try to defy gravity… I think I’ll trrryyyyy defyyyyyyying graaaaaaaviiiiiteeey!”

Wide shot direk!

“Until I deffffy graaaaaviiiity! Grrrrrrravvvvvity! Grrraaaaaviiiity! Grrraaaaaabeeee! Grrrrraaaaaviiiiiitey! Flyyyyy! Flyyyyyy! Flaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!!”

And SPLAT!

That’s me trying to defy gravity. Note to self: Don’t mess with Newton’s Law of Gravity. And with that I bid everyone a Happy New Year… este Merry Christmas palang pala.

And bow.

FEAR AND LOATHING IN SAGADA

2010-12-21T14:02:00.000-08:00

My longish entry to a somewhat longish trip

1.

Was it a Wednesday or a Tuesday? I can’t seem to remember. All I know is that the day after our Laguna trip I was picking Robert up in Tomas Morato to go to Sagada. We’ve been talking about it for weeks but to be honest I wasn’t taking it seriously. I sort of kept hoping that it wouldn’t push through since I already planned on using the money I have saved on my tuition. But what the hell, I haven’t been in a trip for years so there we were, Robert, the boyfriend and I, braving a very busy night. It’s Holy Week and apparently everybody is fleeing the city.

“Do you think we’d get tickets?” Robert asked me.

Sure, I said, I mean, how many Manila residents are actually thinking of going to Sagada on Holy Week? If we were going to Boracay or Puerto Gallera I’d be worried. But of course I’m stupid so what do I know. When we arrived at the station there were already a dozen stranded passengers waiting to get seats. By this time, Robert’s friend has joined us but getting out of the city seemed hopeless. But maybe, we thought, maybe we just need to get to Baguio and worry about Sagada when we get there. Since we already heard that the station in Cubao was crowed, off we went to Pasay only to be met with… more passengers. After hours of sitting and haggling and scheming in bus terminal hell, we were able to get out of Manila and by lunch time we were in Baguio figuring out how to get further into North.

2.

The journey seemed endless. Since I was seated near the driver, I actually kept asking the walang kamatayang tanong: “Are we there yet?” Whenever they would tell me that we still have six hours of travelling before us I would get skeptical. Narnia ba ito? Yes, the view was spectacular. Everything looks like a wallpaper --- majestic open mountains and steep cliffs, infinite clear skies and quaint huts sitting on the edge of the roads, etc. At one point, the fog was crawling upwards and I thought maybe we had entered a place where everything run backwards? But after waiting for four hours in bus terminal hell and six hours going up to Baguio, I was just about to flat line. My expectations rose perilously high as I compute the time and effort we have spent on the road. I swore that it would take no less than Lothlorien with cute elves serving as waiters to satisfy my expectations. By dusk, we have arrived at a foot of a mountain.

“Sagada na ba ito?” I asked the kunduktor, disappointment evident in my voice. The place looks like Mordor for Christssakes.

But of course, there was still an hour’s worth of climb before we would actually get there. Imbernadette Allyson talaga sa bus ride! Record-breaking! And I thought I’m the type who could sit through North Africa without uttering a single word (a slight reference to The English Patient, sorry). Whoever said that life is all about the journey and not the destination must have visited Sagada because Sagada is definitely all about the endless pwet-numbing ride. I actually thought I’d have a pigsa by the time we get there.

As we drove up, the trees began to make their presence felt. It became darker and darker as we snaked through the muddy, tiny road. It was like entering a magical forest where creepy creatures lurk deep in the woods. I half-expect vampires and werewolves to jump out of the trees and accost us. If that doesn’t kill us then maybe the steep roads will because the bus, based from my estimation, was overloaded, with people literally dangling on the front door.

We finally arrive in Sagada at dinnertime. It was cold and dark and we had no reservations. I needed a beer.

3.

Instead of looking for a place to stay, our brilliant travel companion was busy looking for boys. Great, I haven’t slept in two days, I have just endured the longest trip I’ve had in my life, I’m hungry and if that sonofabitch doesn't straighten up I’d have to vivisect him in the woods. To appease my seething anger, I decided to have a beer. And after we have settled in, I immediately dragged the boyfriend to get more drinks. I wanted to get drunk. No, I wanted to get high.

I’ll be honest. The reason I agreed to go to Sagada is because I want to get chongki. And the first place that we went to was just perfect. The boyfriend and I were having dinner when an inebriated guy went up to us and asked us if we have found our tour guide by the name of... Marie Jane. Pwede. Later in the night, when I was smoking outside, an old man gestured at my cig. He was offering me his. It was only when I took a sip that I realized that he has stuffed his Marlboro Lights with chongki. A waiter went up to us and said: “Huy, bawal yan.” Yeah right. In Sagada?

I’m not sure how long we were in the pub but at one point our travel companion came in with two guys. I wasn’t sure if I was tired, drunk or high but I thought one of them was actually cute. I believe he was either drunk or high or both because apparently when our companion had succeeded in snagging him to their room, the cute guy threw up, effectively waking Robert. Instead of hauling the guy to the bathroom, he pushed him under the bed and pretended nothing was up. Yes, it was that kind of a night. My boyfriend and I were lucky that we were ensconced in another room, dead asleep.

4.

Quick observations about Sagada: 1. There are babies everywhere. In the course of our trip, we saw several cute babies with pinkish cheeks wrapped in comfy sweaters. 2. The guys are actually cuter and they are ripped. 3. The food is cheap (well, by Manila standards) and some are pretty good. 4. It’s like a small college town. I guess one has to stay there for at least a month to fully experience its tranquil effect (or perhaps its claustrophobic qualities) 5. The air is fresh (distilled by the lush pine trees of the Mountain Province). But I am the type who, when inhaling cool, fresh air, thinks of nothing but lighting a cigarette.

Or weed. I wanted to get weed. Badly. But before I could figure out where to get it, Robert and the rest of our small group decided to visit the caves. Sure, I thought, I can do that. What’s in a cave? I’m a pretty healthy and adventurous guy. I can handle it. Thinking about it now I was terribly stupid to overestimate my capabilities.

5.

On our way to the caves, the L300 that we were on ran over a hen and her cute little chicks. Blood on the road, looked as if there was a massacre. I thought it was portentous especially with the events that immediately followed. On the trail hike, our chatty guide took notice of the bands on my right foot. You smoke weed? He asked me, and I said yes and I’m actually looking for some and yes he does have weed and yes he’ll let me try some of his stock once we get out of the cave. So that was it. I would get high before the day was over and yes I did but little did I know that it was going to be one of the stupidest things that I would do in my entire stupid life.

6.

The caves scare me. I don’t know but huge deep holes scare me. Even as we were making our way down, I was already thinking of how I was going to make my way out. The further we get, the darker the surroundings. The holes also kept getting smaller. What if there’s an earthquake? What will happen if one of us fell into the deep abyss? Has there been any casualty since the tour seemed utterly dangerous? (Yes, there was) When we reached a point where we had to climb down a steep hole with nothing but a ratty rope, I decided to go back. Lahat sila nakababa na ako na lang. But seriously I would sprain myself if I did try going down. That’s it, I told one of the guides. Let’s head back and light up that toke of yours. And we did.

7.

The plan was the tour guide and I would walk to the other side of the cave, look for a spot to light up the joint and wait for the rest. But first there is one thing I would like to say about the cave. It’s huge with huge rocks blocking every path. The tour guide led me up to this rock that’s situated on the topmost part of the cave. From where we were seated, the cave looked like an amphitheater. No, it resembled the Bat Cave and one mistake would find me sliding down to the great abyss. From below, I could see pins of light traveling slowly down to a small pool. The tourists actually looked like Bedouins searching for refuge. It was very cinematic.

“Your turn,” said the guide.

I took a sip. Man, it was strong. I took another and another and before I knew it I was really toked. As in I was high as a kite and I couldn’t even stand properly. That’s when I started panicking. With my blurred vision and with my mind going fast in different directions I was dead sure I was going to slide down and die. In fact I was crawling as I tried to follow the guide out. In my unbelievable state, I didn’t notice that my hands and shirt were soiled with bat shit. But it was when we were able to climb down the steep rock that my paranoia started to set in.

8.

Since I was busy figuring out how to use my legs and limbs, I didn’t notice that the guide was leading me away from the crowd. I could see the flow of trekkers and the beautiful yellow light splashed across the cold wet rock walls slowly ebb away. As we went further, I began to suspect that he might be planning on robbing me or worse murdering me. Yes, the shit was making me paranoid beyond reason. And since he was also toked, I didn’t discount the possibility that he was also lost himself!

I thought maybe I’d survive this ordeal if I just went back on my own. But when I looked back the it was now pitch-black, which meant that we’re already far from the original trail. I wouldn’t in a million years be able to navigate inside the cave and find my way out. I realized that if I don’t pull my shit together I might be lost, forever sobbing in Helm’s Deep and praying that I wouldn’t die of extreme hunger and utter stupidity. It was crazy. My mind was going crazy.

“Ito ba yung pinasukan natin kanina?” the guide asked me with a hint of malice.

“Parang hindi eh.”

I was shit sure he was on to me. To calm myself, I focused on the climb and kept waiting for tourists to make an appearance. Bahala na si Batman. Still I kept thinking how stupid it was if I end up dead inside the cave. Me, the future Nobel Prize for Literature winner, the only Pinoy who will win the Oscar and the Palm D’Or dead in a Sagada cave just because I wanted to get high?!!! It was stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

But eventually I saw sunlight and in my excitement actually ran towards it. My greatest fear was that the guide had led me to a cul-de-sac where he would rob me and leave me to die. When I got to the spot, I saw that it was a three-story hole with stairs leading upwards. I looked up but I still couldn’t see any tourists. I kept thinking: What the fuck is this man up to? Papatayin ba nya ako? Sasaksakin? Hoholdapin? (No, I didn’t suspect that he was going to rape me) The suspense was killing me.

But the place was beautiful, that I must say. Sunlight was pouring down the steps. It was something one would see in a movie like Lord of the Rings or perhaps Goonies. Yeah, Goonies most probably. There’s probably a sequence where the kids come out of a cave and find stairs leading upwards with sunlight pouring down on it.

Yeah, it was beautiful and my eyes were probably red and glazed and I probably have this constant smirk on my face. In my excitement, I left the tour guide and ran as fast as I could towards the top. It was only when I saw people climbing down that I actually felt safe. So I looked back and smiled at the tour guide who was now wearing shades. Yes, shades and walking with a kind of gait that says “Man, that guy is loaded.” It was actually hilarious but of course I wasn’t laughing. I was just relieved that I came out of it alive even if I was reeking of bat shit.

I started to climb up and saw a gate. Wow, great relief. But standing beside the gate were, guess what, a couple of policemen.

9.

My throat was unbelievably dry. Whenever I speak, I could feel the words slowly climbing out of my throat, have coffee first and then go malling, take time to discuss the newest Harry Potter movie and then come out of my lips. I was painfully in slow motion. I sat on a bench and tried to act normal, which was difficult because the more I struggled the more I got jittery. It didn’t help that I am a fan of Nat Geo’s Locked Up Abroad where they feature stupid tourists being caught on drug dealings. Man, I don’t want to end up in a Sagada jail just because I happen to smoke a single toke. The policemen were loitering in front of me and the mere thought that I had to wait for the rest of the group for an hour or two made me anxious. What will I do for the next two hours? Run amok? But my greatest fear was that someone would strike up a conversation and all I could say is: Huh?

“Punta na lang ako sa taas,” I told the guide.

“Tara,” he said.

Clearly, he was as paranoid as I was. On our way up, he kept telling me: “Single file! Single file!” This was to prevent any suspicion, he said, but man we were goners. One look at us and we’d be locked up. Every time I heard a vehicle approaching I kept expecting it to be the pulis. My goal that afternoon was to reach our inn as fast as possible. I was dying to freak out in the privacy of my own room. Surprisingly, even in my paranoid state I was able to trace my way back to the inn. Once inside our room, I took a shower and then finally, while lighting up one cig after another, thought about doomsday scenarios.

10.

Just like James Steward in Vertigo, after the experience I couldn’t get close to a cliff. I also tried to steer clear of policemen (which was understandable since we were almost always high for the rest of the trip). The next day we went to see the hanging coffins and I swear I was crawling as I made my way through the steep trek. And what did my three companions do as I crawl through a seemingly safe trek? They laughed at me.

11.

We were in a small restaurant toked to death. Everyone was saying they weren’t but I knew they were. I know I was because when we were ordering I kept on snickering. Everything that the waitress said seemed like a punch line to me.

“Sir, what do you like: Pepsi or Coke?”

“Coke,” I’d say, biting my lips with matching nginig ng mga pisngi.

“Sir, will you also have the Rosemary chicken?”

My entire body would shake from repressed laughter. “Yes!”

“Sir, that’s four rosemary chicken and four Cokes…”

WAHAHAHAHAHA! You're so funny! You should do a movie with Dolphy!

Everything was a big, fat joke. As we wait for the food, we started talking about something. I don’t remember what but suddenly just as the conversation began we all fell silent. That was when the giggles once again started coming in. It was as if we were all beamed somewhere and that we were there but not exactly there. That’s all what I wanted to say but I couldn’t explain myself since I was laughing so hard. Waves upon waves of laughter assaulted me, it was uncontrollable. And the fact that I couldn’t make any sense because I was laughing incessantly made me laugh even more.

And when the chicken was served, man, it was unbelievable. Delicious!

12.

Our trip back wasn’t as difficult as our trip to Sagada but we did go all the way to Benguet and then to Pangasinan just to get a ride back to Manila. The next day, I went on another road trip but this time it's for work and with it my trippy summer vacation came to an end.

portents

2010-11-24T11:19:00.000-08:00

So my netbook finally bogged down just when my taping days are coming up. Since I have a few deadlines for tomorrow, I went out to write my scripts in an Internet cafe. But just when I was almost done, the PC that I was using started bogging down as well. Oh god. Am I such a bad writer that the PCs of the world are preventing me from producing any atrocity? Parang kaninang umaga lang yan eh. After I had spent all my money, I went out to check on my ATM if the office has already issued our paycheck only to realize that payday is still a day away. Oh, since we’re on the subject of cosmic malas the cab driver that the universe sent me earlier was so horrifyingly uncouth that he almost ruined my night. As revenge, I asked for my P15 sukli and, mind you I never ask for my change. By the way, when I came home I noticed that my dog has been spending too much time with the boyfriend, prompting me to have serious doubts about my relationship with my… dog. Doubts, as in, if she still loves me. Wow. That one takes the cake. Actually, when I realized that I was complicating my relationship with my dog, I decided that it’s time to start reading again. Who knows maybe I’ll start making sense again?

chichi goes to cinemalaya

sabado nights

2010-10-31T10:44:00.000-07:00

isang gabing tulad rin nito nang tanungin ko ang aking boyfriend kung bakit hindi na niya ako dine-date. sa aming dalawa kasi, ako ang palalabas. ang mahilig sa coffee at beer. sa pa-morningan na inuman. sa lakarang wala namang katuturan. mga three to four years ago, pakiramdam ko loser ako kung wala akong lakad kapag sabado. nagmumukmok ako sa bahay kapag ganun, nakikipag-chat, sumusubok na makipag-hook up. naaalala ko pa, nuong nasa dyaryo pa ako naging ugali ko na ang dumiretso sa restawran pagkatapos ng trabaho. isang platong sisig, mainit-init na rice, mga tatlong order ng coke. pagkatapos yosi sabay segue sa inuman. solb. no wonder lumobo ako ng todo todo. nuong lumipat naman ako sa tv prod, naging ugali ng mga kaibigan kong magbabad sa meat shop habang ang mga editor namin ay nagdi-digitize ng aming mga na-shoot. at nung nagka-crush ako sa isang editor, pati siya niyaya na rin namin sa inuman in the hopes of... what? never mind. may live-in girlfriend na siya ngayon. minsan nga, dahil sa sobrang kalasingan napagtitripan naming magmakeupan duon mismo sa iniinuman namin. naeskandalo tuloy ang mga kalapit naming table na punong puno ng mga lesbiyana. meron akong dating parating ka-inuman. si chenelyn. kahit anong oras, basta't naisipan, lalabas pa rin kami. pagkatapos ng mahaba-habang chikahan at lasingan, tutuloy kami sa dating kebabs at magbe-breakfast na may katambal na pantulak na, siempre, alcohol din. pero nang napagdesisyonan ko nang kailangan ko na ng isang seryosong relasyon, hindi ko na ininda ang mga aya sa akin ng mga kaibigan. every weekend nasa labas pa rin ako pero nakikipag-date. sila naman ang naging mga drinking buddy ko. trip na trip ko nuon na bugbugin ang katawan sa trabaho buong linggo para nga naman masarap ang pay-off. parati ko nung inaasam-asam ang sabado ng hapon. para sa amin sa bulaga yun ang pinakamasaya. 3pm saturday. lalabas na si kiko at sisigaw nang: seamless na! at habang umeere ang obb ng startalk, kinukuha na namin ang mga bag namin at mabilis na lumalabas ng broadway. wala nang pansinan. uuwi ako nuon, kakain ng lunch at kung sinuswerte makakatulog (para fresh na fresh) in preparation sa lakad ko nuong gabing iyon. sarap na sarap akong lumalabas lalo na kung bagong gising. yung tipong inaantok antok ka pang darating sa isang bar at ang gigising sayo yosi at beer. siempre mas excited ako kapag may confirmed na booking. nasa taxi palang, pinaplano ko na ang gabi. ang mga pupuntahan. ang mga paguusapan. ano ang mangyayari kapag na-tripan namin ang isa't isa. siguro wala nang mas wa-wild pa sa dalawang tao na lasing na, libog na libog pa (well, pwera na lang kung may kahalong juts). natigil ang lahat ng ito nang makilala ko ang boyfriend ko. siguro halo-halong factor na rin: mas marami na akong gastusin dahil nag-solo na ako't nagbabayad na ng renta at napagdesisyonan ko na ring magpapayat. no no na ang alcohol. kung alcohol man, dapat hindi na beer. mabibilang siguro sa daliri ko ang mga gabing naglasingan kami ng boyfriend ko. mga dalawa o tatlong taon na rin akong naghinay hinay sa paggi-gimik. mas madalas na ngayon ang pa-kape kape na lang. pero paminsan minsan nami-miss ko rin ang mga drunken nights. mga pagwawalang kinakalimutan pagdating ng umaga. kaya siguro naisipan kong tuksuhin ang boyfriend ko't tanungin kung kelan ba niya akong balak ilabas ulit (the subtext being us turning into old fogeys). napatingin siya sa akin, may kunot ang kanyang noo. "i'm trying to build you a home," sabi niya. kahit na ito na yata ang pinaka-romantikong nasabi sa akin ng isang lalaki, hindi pa rin ako nagpatalo. "you call this a home? a home without cable tv and internet?" siempre nagtatampo siya sa akin at ako naman si tanga pilit na inamo siya. medyo cheesy pero ganitong mga sabado ang meron ako ngayon. isang masarap na dinner (courtesy niya), isang pelikula (courtesy ng aming suking pirated dvd vendor), at pagkatapos kwentuhan sa kama period. ang sex hindi na tulad ng dati, optional na. siguro pwede na rin pero sa totoo lang, minsan, gusto ko lang talagang makipag-inuman na lang.

sabado. may 2, 2009

PS

But of course i still go out every now and then. Well, i have to...

Drunk and bangag with the boyfriend in Sagada.

What started as an impromptu inuman in Sarah's at two in the afternoon led to an early lasingan in Future.

Kapag kainuman ko ang aking kapatid kasama ang aming mga kaibigan siempre isa lang ang pinag-uusapan namin: pelikula.

Last year, the Bulaga people got together for a few drinks and because I basically had no sleep then (since I came from a taping), at the end of the night I was...

Well, knocked out.

thefacebook update

2010-10-27T16:40:00.000-07:00

As the opening credits of The Social Network flashed on screen, Rochelle and I immediately spotted a familiar name.

"Buhay pa si Trent Reznor," I told Rochelle.

"Wow, kilala mo si Trent Reznor."

Owel, there goes our age.

I seriously loved The Social Network. Lately, I've been loving David Fincher's work although Benjamin Button bored me to bits (it felt like a prestige project, I much prefer Zodiac). It also helped that I already had a huge crush on Jesse Eisenberg ever since I saw him in Adventureland, which I thought was a hell lot better than 500 Days of Summer (I thought that movie was phony though I fell madly in love with Joseph Gordon Levitt --- I know I prefer my men skinny and a bit nerdy). Right after the movie, I immediately googled Mark Zuckerberg and Sean Parker and boy they should both send the casting director gifts because they sure don't look like Jesse and Justin. I assume that Justin was cast because the character should have effortless charm but Justin wasn't able to convey the darkness that lurks behind the cute smile. Fincher even had to use lights and shadows just to punch that out.

"But where's Radiohead?" I asked Rochelle.

"That's just for the trailer (dumbass)!"

Back in the day, I used to listen to Radiohead on my walkman. Yes, walkman. My bag would be filled with cassettes (CDs if I was lugging my portable CD player, which would skip a beat everytime the cab drove over a hump or a pothole).

As we walked home, Rochelle posed a serious question: The Social Network or Inception? The shot of Mark clicking on the refresh button anxiously waiting to be accepted by his former girlfriend or the spinning top on the table?

Hmmm... Tough one.

PS

Just to be able to make it on time, I had to squeeze myself to an already jampacked train. The heat and the crowd made my head spin. I thought I was going to have a meltdown. After two stations, I found myself sandwiched between two men. I quickly sent a text message to Rochelle: "Lola, I think I'm being sodomized by the man behind me." Because something hard kept poking at my ass. Apparently, she was having a similar experience. "I think I'm pregnant," she replied. Indeed, it was ride worthy of a Facebook update.

Something from the book I'm currently trying to read

2010-10-20T03:34:00.000-07:00

"One single moment comes closest to summing up my friendship with Juno. It's the moment I've experienced many times since, but the first instance I was aware of took place on those cliffs on the west side of the Hudson River. We'd been hiking strenuously and were taking a rest. We were sitting on a rock, looking out over the river toward Yonkers. It was a perfect sping day, brilliant sky, new leaves and grasses, fragnant breezes. We felt good.

After a while, I began to realize that the dog and I were sharing a thought. It wasn't anything special or complicated --- it was something a man could think and a dog could think. It was something like... 'Ahhh!'"

- pg 101

Uncle Boris in the Yukon
and Other Shaggy Dog Stories
Daniel Pinkwater

How I wish magka-moment rin kami ni Chichi...

goodbye kiss

2010-10-15T15:10:00.000-07:00

kaninang umaga si chichi nakiki-goodbye kiss rin nang makita niyang nag-kiss si boyfriend. so cute. i love that dog. seriously.

Tweet… Tweet… Tweet…

2010-10-07T23:28:00.000-07:00

Today is a Friday. “My cat is trying to make out with me,” tweeted Susan Orlean from New York. “If It puts you down… trash it,” said Ricky Martin (or in his native tongue “si no te hace bien [en la vida]… pa’la basura”). Neil Gaiman, on the other hand, announced that he loves “bad old dinosaur theme parks.” All these while Carlos Celdran tweets from Manila, once again courting controversy by tweeting: “there is scandal in the churches of Intramuros, a revolution in the minds of the people and a Galleon…”

Yesterday, before I went to work, I typed in that I’m “always looking for my next obsession.” This Twitter thing is definitely a curious thing.

Meron akong fifteen movies...

2010-10-06T03:25:00.000-07:00

1.The Baby Sitter

I think this is the very first porn I saw. Hindi ko siya makakalimutan dahil isang batalyon yata kami na magkakaibigan nagsiksikan sa isang maruming couch habang excited na pinapanood ang mga nagkakangkangan sa TV. Imporkrita pa ako noon. kunwari pang tinatakpan ko ang mata ko ng kamay ko pero nakabukas naman yung mga daliri. Nang dahil sa movie na ito, napapangisi ako every time na may nagbabanggit ng baby sitter... Wahahaha!

2. Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring

I so fell in love with this movie that I simply refused to get out of the theater. Pagkatapos noon naghanap talaga ako ng libro at hindi tumigil hanggang natapos ko ang Return of the King. I felt like I was Frodo, frail and seemingly helpless, but still pursuing his task to the darkest parts of Mordor.

3. The English Patient

This movie cemented my obsession with Ralph Fiennes (I first saw him in Robert Redford's Quiz). And because I was so obsessed with Ralph Fiennes I started reading the book from where it was based. And because story was set in the 40s and featured some of the music from that era, I started listening to jazz. May isang FM station na nagpapatugtog ng mga standards tuwing Sunday afternoon and from there I started learning about Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald and Primolevi...

4. Superman 3

Dahil ito ang unang movie na napanood ko.

5. In the Mood for Love

I wasn't impressed when I first saw it but from there on I started watching other Wong Kar Wai movies. I love Wong Kar Wai. Every time I'm depressed I pop in one of his movies. Kahit shot lang ng hagdaan (sa "The Hand"), nagiging romantic na! Ibang klase.

6. Chungking Express

Sabi ko nga fan ako ni Wong Kar Wai at isa ito sa mga paulit-ulit kong pinapanood. Takeshi Kaneshiro at Tony Leung, wala nang iba!

7. Rashomon

In the late 90s, just around the time when cinema was celebrating its 100 years, there was this UHF channel that screened good movies. Duon ko napanood yung The Last Picture Show, Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces at ilang Akira Kurusawa films. But of all the excellent movies I saw, what blew me away the most was Kurusawa's Rashomon. Sabi nga ng isang critic, what was brilliant about it was that even in the end Kurusawa never gave his viewers the real answer as to who the culprit was. His point: There is no absolute truth. Kanya kanya lang yan.

8. 100 Years of Sodom

Seemingly decent people eating shit (with matching spoon and fork and napkins to boot) and kinky sex. Basically it showed me just how far one can put the sickness of the human mind on screen. I thought it was very liberating.

9. Minsan Lang Sila'y Bata

It has been years since I last saw this documentary by Ditsi Carolino but even now I could still remember the kids who talked about the hardships that they have to go through just to go on living. It was a fairly simple documentary. Walang mga artsy-fartsy shots. Just plain interview but boy, the stories of the kids were simply heartbreaking. Nuong pinapanood ko itong docu na ito sa GMA 7 (pre-I-Witness days pa ito), na-realize ko yung power ng documentary.

10. Moral

Ito ang unang Filipino movie na naka-relate ako ng bonggang bonggang. I saw in the four women the stories of my friends. Sabi nga ni Lav Diaz, only the Filipinos can tell their own stories with passion... (actually he was quoting another filmmaker. May sarili daw paraan kung papaano kumantot ang mga Pinoy. Ganun rin daw pagdating sa paggawa ng pelikula. Bongga!)

11. Lost in Translation

Lany and I were supposed to watch this movie in Megamall. I don't remember why I was coming from Makati but we decided to watch it in Ortigas. Nakabili na ako ng ticket at lahat lahat nang sabihin sa akin ni Lany na hindi siya makakapunta. Shet, I was pissed off. I have this phobia of watching a movie alone --- at last full show pa naman --- kasi baka mapagkamalang namimikup. Pero watch pa rin ako and lo and behold I was blown away. I loved how Sofia Coppola was able to tell the story of two sad individuals with such subtlety and grace. Panalo!

12. I Am Cuba

Propaganda movie na co-production ng Cuba at Soviet Union. Pino-promote ang socialism. Pero ang galing ng kwento at ang galing ng pagkaka-direct. Damang dama mo ang suffering ng mga tao.Kung napanood ninyo ang Boogie Nights dito nakuha ni Paul Thomas Anderson yung eksena na bumaba mula sa third floor, nagpunta sa may pool, nag-dive at nag-swimming. Na walang cut. Just one fluid take. Ang lupet!

13. Kimmidora

I swear, I was laughing my ass off from beginning to end. Muntik pa nga akong mapautot eh. Basta Chris Martinez, solb na ako.

14. Tagos ng Dugo

Dahil nuong pinanood ko ito nuong bata pa ako, it made me wonder...

15. Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow (yung kay Vilma)

Vilmanian ang nanay ko kaya parati kaming nahihila ng kapatid ko nuon sa sinehan para panoorin ang mga pelikula niya. Siempre may Italian movie din ito of the same title pero ang napanood ko yung kay Vilma. Eto yata yung kabit siya ng isang doctor. Ang naaalala ko lang yung love scene sa clinic. Nang dahil kay Dindo Fernando at Vilma Santos, parati akong naku-curious sa mga naka-scrubs... wahahaha

What I've learned on my way to Tralala land

2010-09-01T13:09:00.000-07:00

Wait. Hold on a minute. I think I'm on the verge of a breakdown. I keep joking to myself that this is the right time to have a breakdown since I only have a few things to do but now that I could feel it coming I'm scared. Really scared. It's like flying a hopelessly crashing plane. It feels inevitable. I need to hold on to something. I need to focus. I need to fight this. I shouldn't take this sitting down.

I exactly know when this started. Two weeks ago, I experienced probably my most stressful week of the year. Everyday I was struggling to beat my deadlines. One morning, for example, had me securing an equipment for a film class while I was trying to book an interview for my MA subject. I was also looking for an interviewee for my magazine article and coordinating with our sp and researcher for two of the three episodes that I would write for that week. And yes, that was just my morning activities. To top it all, my Thursday had me jumping from one show to another in addition to an evening shoot in UP. Needless to say, by the time I arrived at the university I was already exhausted from all the activities that preceeded it (Tuesday lamay for the article, Wednesday early morning VTR shoot, Thursday midnight preparation for two episodes to be taped that same morning). And yes, after I was done with the UP shoot, I had to go home and type another script for Friday's taping.

But it wasn't because of my busy schedule that led me to this fucked-up state. I was actually happy that I was busy. We were making a short film! I just wrote three articles for the magazine! And I survived my messy schedule! I should've felt elated. I should've been bugging people to drink with me (because that's what I do when I'm happy. I drown all of it with beer.) Sleep should have come easily. But of course, as it is in my world, nothing comes easy. On my way to UP I noticed that I wasn't excited at all. I knew something was up because I've been looking forward to the shoot for almost a week. I already knew the shots that I would do. I had already picked a music and I thought my concept was fun. But as I sat inside the cab, idly watching red tail lights wink at me, I realized that after all the things that I've done I wouldn't be getting anything. There is no reward. No best actor trophy to receive or milyon-milyon cash to spend. I wouldn't get any close-ups. I just exhausted myself. All the hard work was for nothing. The boulder was already tumbling down the steep mountain. I knew that I had to climb down and push it up again. Albert Camus was right. At that moment, I was Sisyphus.

In the next couple of days, I kept wondering what I was expecting to receive. Standing ovation? Cheers from my peers? A great fuck? A new pair of jeans? A sense of accomplishment, perhaps? I guess, I was looking for a sense of being. Even if the UP shoot went right (and it didn't), I don't think that I would be bursting out with a Broadway tune. Apparently, I had deluded myself. I thought that by doing these things I would find myself. I would be happy. But the fact that I was still looking for... a reward or something means that I was off the target. I simply didn't get off. Hindi ako nilabasan. I wasn't happy. I was miserable. I know that these past months my attitude in life could be summed up with these words: Eh ano ngayon? You climbed Mt. Everest? So what? Eh ano ngayon? You won an Oscar for Best Foreign Film? Ano ngayon? You fucked three cute models all at the same time? So fucking what?E lahat naman tayo mamatay. But still, I should have felt something positive after my stressful week. But instead, as my days grew less busier, I found myself being exhausted emotionally. I found myself raking in resentment, anger, and frustration. It came to a point where every pin-prick felt like a stab in the heart. I alienated myself from my friends (and I've already alienated myself from most of my co-workers), I stopped making an effort to, at least, feel good about myself, I stopped blogging because I thought it was pointless and I even began to resent my boyfriend. Last night, I had to go down to the Internet shop because I couldn't bear his presence. I did try to reason out with myself. If there is no jackpot then perhaps, I thought, my reward could be found in the simplest things: a good movie, a nice afternoon chat with a friend, a quiet morning etc. But I found the idea too corny and depressing. Can't I have just a brief moment of pure bliss? A fleeting positive emotion that confirms even for a split second that there is a God? I started thinking about Job but then I also realized that I'm not exactly religious but superstitious.

I already knew that I was crumbling down so I decided to spend my day today doing nothing. For an entire day, I was online, chatting on planet romeo (needy men, sex-starved weirdos, chatters who dress up their libido with drippy romantic sentiments, hard cocks looking for true romance --- I know, I fit right in). By early evening I decided to do my deadline. Well, I didn't decide. I had no choice. I had to do it. But I knew what I have written was crap even before I emailed it to the boss. I have devolved as a writer (and to some extent, as a human being). When instructions for revisions came, I stared at my script and tried to make sense of it. I realized that I couldn't fix it. I wasn't functioning well. I couldn't even write a simple question. My mind couldn't contain words and my thoughts were like liquid quickly seeping through an open palm. Logic had already abandoned me. Nag-pack up na yata at nagbakasyon na sa Thailand. I knew I had to fix myself first before I could fix my script (I know, ang daming drama just for a simple script). That's when I decided to set my work aside and write this entry first. I needed to make sense of my world. I had to trace back my steps because I was dangerously heading towards tralala land.

Ketchup

2010-08-29T03:38:00.000-07:00

Remember in Pulp Fiction when after a fun night of dancing and hamburgers and milkshakes John and Uma go home to get stoned out of their wits. John puts on some music and goes out to pee while Uma snorts more coke and blood starts dripping out of her nostrils. John then finds Uma ODing on the sofa only she couldn't OD because he would be in deep shit if she dies on him so he rushes her to his friend, a dope dealer, and smashes the small figurines on the lawn with his car. Eric Stolz comes out of his house cursing in his bathrobe and in comes John with Uma dead in his arms. They drag her into the living room and all three of them, including Eric's hysterical wife, are cursing and shouting because they don't know what to do. Eric says that the only way to revive her is to shoot adrenaline right into her heart but nobody wants to do it and they are running out of time. So John gets a red marker and draws a circle right in the middle of Uma's rib cage and stabs her with the syringe. Then her eyes fly open and she starts vomiting. The entire thing ends in Uma's house. She turns to John and asks him if he still wants to know the joke that Uma delivered in her ill-fated TV series. "You know what Daddy tomato said to the baby tomato?" "What?" asked John. "Ketchup."

That was a good movie.

How Paglilitis ni Andres Bonifacio made me feel so stupid (as opposed to Inception, which made me feel smart)

2010-07-29T03:37:00.000-07:00

So there I was, outside UP Film Center with Weng, on a rainy Wednesday evening. We have just seen Mario O Hara's Paglilitis ni Andres Bonifacio and both of us were boggled by the movie's treatment of Bonifacio's last days.

"It's theatrical no?" I asked Weng.

"Very much so. Parang combination siya ng folklore (Ibong Adarna), magic realism and actual historical documents. Pero ano ang silbi ni bald-headed girl?"

"I think she's a clown. Didn't the movie specified in the beginning that it's a comedy?"

"Sort of like a narrator in a theater play. Very theatrical talaga."

"But it has its poetic moments: the silhouette of the flags in the window as Filipinos flee from war, the floating fire outside the witch's hut..."

"Na parang Gabriel Garcia Marquez lang... And don't forget the prisoners' sing-along..."

"Na parang ang kulang na lang si Noel Cabangon..."

"I know right. Pero ano ang silbi ni Ibong Adarna?"

"Hmmm... hindi kaya dahil may patience yung prinsipe at kailangan mag-suffer muna bago ma-bag ang premyo as opposed to Bonifacio who's always portrayed as antsy."

"I don't get it but I'm compelled to say that it is good."

"Parang kunwari naintindihan mo..."

"I know right. Maybe we should ask Bienvenido Lumbrera... There oh!"

"Are you sure that's Bienvenido Lumbrera?"

"Ang daming tanong. Well, hindi. Pero malay mo may opinyon siya tungkol sa pelikula."

"Ang problemahin mo kaya kung pano tayo uuwi."

"I think its good pero bakit nang nagaway-away sila naka-brief yung isang macho."

"Dapat hindi na lang natin siya pinanood. Dapat Donor na lang baka mas naintindihan pa natin..."

"Then we wouldn't feel so stupid."

Twenty-four hours later, after work, I went back to UP to watch another Cinemalaya entry. Weng's there, fresh from her Joel David class.

"May explanation si Sir Joel. The mere fact that O'Hara chose to film a historical document is an achievement in itself. O'Hara, apparently, used Moro-Moro to drive the point that what happened in Bonifacio's trial was nothing but... well, a Moro-Moro. Sabi rin niya, compared to the New Breed section, the older filmmakers definitely have more substance. Tapos si bald-headed gurl, symbolizes Spain."

"Spain? Baket? Akala ko nga may pagka-Japanese eh."

"Kasi naka-muk-up nang parang Kabuki, ganun? Dance of death daw yun eh."

"Pwede. Eh ano yung briefs?"

"Sabi ni Sir, the treatment justifices the pagmo-model-modelan ng hunky actor ng kanyang Bench brief. Pero may na-discover akong link explaining everything."

Like an inept student, I resorted to Google. In a few seconds, I found "Lessons from the School of Inattention" by the blogger Francis Cruz. For him, Mario O'Hara's theatrical treatment was justifiable as it only emphasizes the Moro-Moro that is the Paglilitis ni Bonifacio. (Sabi nga ni David) Despite being based on actual transcript, the filmmaker chose to treat it as fiction. Then, if so, I guess Mario's also implying the sheer impossibility of telling a historical figure on film. Sort of what Mike de Leon pointed out in Bayaning Third World, which was the difficulty of doing a biopic on Rizal.

Of course may mga comments so I read them as well. One commented that he was looking for some emotional connection to the movie. Yes, it was masterfully done but the movie didn't move him. Isn't cinema supposed to affect you emotionally? He borrowed Peque Gallaga's phrase "Cinema of intent," which he then defined as a movie that elevates the standard of film and even experiments on the form but fails to connect generally. Siempre, may pang-reply ang blogger at which point dumanak na nang dugo sa cafe kung saan ako nagi-internet at dinala na ako sa nearby ospital. Nose bleed to teh.

Mayamaya lang dumating na si Weng galing sa panonood niya ng Sigwa (aka Sagwa... just kidding).

"Bago ka magsalita, tara manood na lang tayo ulit ng Inception..."

"Baket?"

"Simply because I get it. So now let me tell you why Christopher Nolan is such an overrated filmmaker..."

Fade out

priceless

2010-07-11T13:07:00.001-07:00

Kanina, habang pinagmamasdan namin ni boyfriend si Chichi na natutulog sa bed, sabi ko: "Kung mamamatay ako, ipakain mo ang liver ko kay Chichi ha."

Tumayo na lang si boyfriend at nag-timpla ng kape. You're going crazy.

But I'd chop off my arm just to make my dog happy. Seriously.

Parang kelan lang, iniihian pa niya ang unan ko. Pero ngayon, sa front door ng kapit bahay na lang. She's already four months old by the way. Nagtataka nga ang mga kaibigan ko dahil super obsessed ako sa kanya. I guess they were surprised with my capacity to love someone apart from myself. In the beginning, I stupidly thought that she would be the antidote to my growing cynicism. Perhaps with the rejuvenative power of canine cuteness I would emerge friendlier and more approachable. Upon closer inspection, however, I realized that my affinity for the dog stems from my intensifying distrust of humans.

Pero paano ko ba naman hindi mamahalin ang isang asong kung todo kahol tuwing umuuwi ako. Every day she gives me a a big wet surprise as if I'm coming home with the Miss Universe crown or the American Idol title. Sabi nga sa isang ad campaign, it's simply priceless.

ang madramang gripo

2010-07-11T12:25:00.000-07:00

How can I be so careless? What made me think that he wouldn't mind? I don't know. He seemed genuinely hurt. I go to him while he is in front of the sink washing his face. I embrace him tightly and whisper "I love yous" in his ear. He doesn't respond but merely smile through the mirror. I look at our reflection. We are no longer young. He tries to turn off the faucet but water still leaks through. I look at it and laugh.

"What a convenient metaphor," I said. "Pati gripo nagda-drama."

"Nothing works in this house," he replied. "It's filled with holes."

I loosen my grip on him. He walks out of the bathroom. I follow him to our room.

Andrea

2010-06-15T12:48:00.000-07:00

Hinatak ni Andrea ang puting tali at mabilis na tumulak pataas ang kalawanging blinds na pink. Dapit-hapon pa lang nuon pero busing busy na siya sa pagpapaganda. Sa katunayan kagagaling lang niya sa banyo kung saan mahigit dalawang oras rin siyang nagbabad. Pakiramdam nga niya'y halos lahat nang sa kanya'y pwede nang tikman sapagkat makailang ulit rin siyang naligo sa mainit na tubig at nagpahid ng kung ano anong cream at lotion. Nagtungo siya sa harapan nang salamin kung saan makikita ang samu't saring mga pabango't make-up at pulbos. Pinindot ang electric fan at ninamnam muna ang malamig na hangin. Kay sarap ng hangin, sa isip isip niya, parang niroromansa ang kanyang basang kutis.

Tinanggal niya sa pagkakabuhol ang tuwalya sa kanyang ulo at nilugay ang kanyang maitim at mahabang buhok. Tuwing nakababa ito'y mas lalong lumiliit ang kanyang mukha. Ang tanging makikita lang ay ang kanyang matalim na cheek bones, singkit na mga mata at manipis na labi. Namumukha tuloy siyang dise sais kahit na nasa mid-twenties na siya.

"Magugustuhan pa rin kaya niya ako?" tanong ni Andrea sa sarili.

Bagamat sa tingin niya'y konti lang ang kanyang pinagbago, naroroon pa rin ang kabang baka hindi na siya matipuhan ng minamahal. Kung sabagay mahigit limang taon na ang lumipas nang huli silang nagkita, limang taong binalot ng galit, pagsisisi't kalungkutan. Napangiwi na lang siya sa salamin.

"Wag na muna yan," sabi niya. "Tama na muna ang drama Andrea, marami ka pang gagawin."

Para naman maiba ang kanyang mood, nagtungo siya sa kabilang kwarto, sa music room, at nagsalang ng isang lumang record. Ang paborito nilang dalawa. "Someone to Watch Over Me" ni Ella Fitzgerald. Habang umiikot ang itim na plaka, muli niyang naalala ang mga linggong parati nilang pinapatugtog ang kanta. Nuong bata pa siya, bago mag-Siesta, madalas nakikita niya ang kanyang minamahal sa paborito nitong upuan, may dalang beer sa kanang kamay at sigarilyo naman sa kaliwa, ninanamnam ang mga piano't trumpeta, ang mga jazz singers na tila nalulunod tuwing kumakanta.

Hindi pa sila magkasintahan nuong una niyang marinig si Ella Fitzgerald. Nasa kwarto siya noon at nagising sa boses ng jazz singer. Tumayo siya't sumilip sa pintuan at dahan dahang dumungaw sa music room. Hindi pa rin niya makalimutan ang liwanag na bumubuhos mula sa bintana na sinabayan ng mga kurtinang sumasayaw sa hangin. Para nga naman siyang nasa isang panaginip. Pinong pino ang araw at walang kasing tingkad ang mga kulay. Napansin na siya ng kanyang minamahal at ito'y ngumiti. "Halika," paanyaya sa kanya, "samahan mo akong mag-trip." Sa kanyang pagkakatanda, duon sila nagsimula. Sa maliwanag na music room, isang mainit na hapon, habang ang lahat ay mahimbing na natutulog.

Napatingin si Andrea sa labas. Nababalutan na ng pulang sinag ang kanyang bintana. Gumagabi na. Kumuha siya ng stick sa pakete at nagsindi. "Sino kaya ako ngayong gabi?" tanong niya sa sarili habang kinakalikot ang mga kolorete sa tukador. "Isang pilyang katorse anyos o isang makamundong mistress?"

Mistress. Napangiti siya sa salitang iyon. Ang katunayan ay isa lamang siyang mistress. Hindi niya ito makakaila sapagkat dito rin mismo sa bahay na ito sila na-diskubre ng tunay na asawa. Nagdulot ito nang isang malaking eskandalong hanggang ngayon hindi pa niya lubos na maunawaan at makalimutan. Ang tanging alam lang niya ay ang galit at selos na hanggang ngayon ay buong buo pa rin sa kanyang kalooban. Pero sa isip isip niya, hindi ba siya ang nagwagi? Dahil naririto pa rin siya't nagpapaganda sa mismong kwarto nila. At ngayon pa na uuwi ang kanyang minamahal, hindi ba isang katibayang siya ang totoong asawa?

Pinatay niya ang sigarilyong hawak at sinimulang pintahan ang mukha. Nuong bata pa siya nakahiligan na niyang tumambay sa tukador nang kanyang nanay. Hilig niya nuong pagmasdan ang ina habang naka-upo sa harap ng vanity mirror at namimili ng koloreteng ilalagay sa mukha. Uunahin nitong pulbusan ang pisngi. Pagkatapos ay kukuha ng lapis at iguguhit ang isang manipis na linya sa kilay. Susunod na ang mga matitingkad na shades para sa mata at ang pulang lipstick. Pero ang kanyang pinakahihintay ay ang walang kasing itim na mascara. Para sa kanya, ito ang kumukumpleto sa transformation bilang isang glamorosang babae. Ito ang rason kung bakit sa isang tingin lamang ay naaakit na ang mga lalaki. At tuwing aalis ang kanyang ina nakahiligan rin niyang umupo sa harap ng vanity mirror at pagmasdan ang iba't ibang kulay at namnamin ang mga kakaibang halimuyak na pumapalibot dito. Naalala pa niya ang paboritong pabango ng ina: Jasmine.

Ito rin sana ang pabangong gagamitin niya pero napatigil siya. "Ano ka ba Andrea?" sabi niya sa sarili. "Hindi ikaw ang nanay mo." Namili na lang siya ng iba. "Something strong," sabi niya. "Something sexier." Nagtungo siya sa kanyang aparador at sinuot ang mamahaling puting lingerie na binalutan niya ng kanyang silk robe. Tumingin siya sa oras at dumungaw sa bintana. Mayamaya lang ay paparada na ang taxi na sakay ang kanyang pinaka-mamahal. Napangiti siya. Ganito rin siya nuong bata pa siya habang naghihintay sa kanyang tatay. Dito rin sa mismong bintana na ito siya nakatayo, inaabangan ang bawat sasakyang dumaraan. Humihiling na sana'y ang susunod na kotse'y lulon na ang kanyang ama.

"Sana'y ang susunod ng sasakyan ay siya na," bulong ni Andrea.

Huminto ang isang sasakyan at bumababa ang isang pamilyar na pigura. Kahit sa kadiliman, nakilala niya ang kanyang minamahal. Dali dali niyang hinablot ang kanyang black stilhetto heels at nagmadaling bumaba ng hagdan.

"Welcome home," sabi niya sa lalaki nang tuluyang nakapasok na ito ng bahay. "How was your trip?"

"Terrible," singhal nito. "I hate the heat. The traffic. Everything."

"Would you like some water?"

Nagtungo lang ito sa sofa at sumenyas kay Andrea. Tulad ng dati'y lumuhod siya't maingat na inalis ang sapatos nito.

"I miss you," sabi ni Andrea habang nakatingala sa lalaki. "Don't you miss me?"

Hindi ito sumagot at pinagmasdan lamang siya. Nagbago na nga ang kanyang minamahal. Ang dating malagong buhok ay unti-unting nauubos na. Kapansin pansin na rin ang mga kulobot sa bandang mata't labi. Ang dating matipunong katawan ay tuluyang nangayayat na. Pero hindi maikakailang na-miss niya ito ng lubus-lubusan. Kay tagal na pala niyang nangulila.

"Let me take a look at you," sabi nito kay Andrea.

Mabilis siyang tumayo at ibinigay ang pinaka-kaakit-akit na ngiti. Dahan dahang naman niyang hinubad ang kanyang robe, unti-unting pinasilip ang pinakaiingat-ingatang katawan hanggang tuluyang mahulog ang takip at ang tanging naiwan na lang ay ang kanyang slinky lingerie.

"You like it?"

Iginala ng lalaki ang mga mata nito. Sinuri ang bawat parte ni Andrea: mula ulo hanggang paa. Biglang sumimangot ito at napa-singhal.

"Put your penis away," sabi ng lalaki sa kanya na may tonong pandidiri.

Nabigla si Andrea at mabilis na ibinalik ang robe sa katawan.

"Yes, Papa," sabi niya. "Right away Papa."

At parang batang natataranta, mabilis na pumanaig si Andrea para magbihis. At pagdating sa kwarto'y hindi na niyang napigilang lumuha. "Don't fuck it all up, Andrea," sabi niya sa sarili. "Don't you ever fuck it up." Nanginginig ang kanyang kamay habang hinahawi ang mga nakabalandrang damit. Pagkatapos ng mahabang paghahanda, muling dumaloy sa kanyang buong katawan ang galit at hiya. "Don't fuck it, Andrea," paalala nito sa sarili. "Get a grip."

Pagbaba niya ay nakalugay na ang kanyang buhok at nakasuot na ng magkaternong lacy red panty at bra. "I'm ready," bulong ni Andrea. Tumayo ang kanyang ama at sinundan siya sa taas. Nagtungo sila sa dilim at duon sinimulang haplusin ng lalaki ang makinis at maputing hita ni Andrea. Sinuot ng lalaki sa kalooblooban ni Andrea ang kanyang mga kamay at hinaplos ang katawang ilang beses pinaliguan habang ang masukal at malagong balbas nito'y parang nagbibiro't nangingiliti sa leeg ng kanyang anak. Napaliyad si Andrea't napakapit sa braso ng ama. Matalim ang kanyang paghinga at nagsirko-sirko na ang mga amoy sa kanyang ulo: ang halimuyak ng kanyang pabango, ang pawisang katawan ng kanyang katalik at ang sangsang ng kanilang libog.

Nuong bata palang si Andrea, nuong wala pa siyang karanasan, may nakapagsabi sa kanyang tuwing kinakantot ka raw para kang muling isinisilang. At simula nuong hapong iyon, habang taas baang nagsu-swing sa playground, paulit ulit niyang iniisip kung ano nga ba ang pakiramdam ng muling ipinanganganak at kung ang kakambal rin nito ay ang paulit ulit na kamatayan.

kokak!

2010-05-23T00:27:00.000-07:00

Nuong isang araw nag-channel surfing ako. Lahat ang ingay ingay. Lahat sigaw ng sigaw. Lahat may birthday at lahat dadak ng dadak. Chika ng chika pero wala namang totoong laman.

Siguro dahil hindi natin alam kung bakit tayo nandito, lahat tayo kokak ng kokak. the meaningless noise that we make seems to be our angry reaction to the futility of life. Maybe it would be better if for once we would just shut the fuck up. Maybe then we would find meaning in silence.

aliwan paradise

2010-05-10T10:37:00.000-07:00

As early as now, the list of leading candidates looks like a line-up for a Famas production number. You have Ate Vi who can do an explosive opening dance number; Bong Revilla, Jinggoy Estrada, and Tito Sotto for an oldies but goodies medley; and perhaps, with enough cajoling, we could have an additional surprise acoustic number with matching karate exhibition courtesy of Lito Lapid. The host, of course, would be Kris Aquino (but then this has always been Krissie's world and we all just live in it).

I wonder how the SONA would be like? Would it be like one gigantic supershow with Kuya Germs as host? Maybe in the next elections, we could have a Philippine Idol special Presidential edition so we could vote by sending text messages, jejemon style. At the end of the elections, the host (Raymond Gutierrez?) would turn to the judges and ask: Did the Philippines get it right this time?

Are we too starstruck that we truly believe our entertainers are the answer to our national woes? do we just want our politicians to have a double purpose --- to serve us as well as to entertain us? are we just tired of the trapos? but then enrile and drilon are still on the list.

oh well, what am I saying. what else is new? we already had erap for a president. i know, i should've done my part and voted. maybe i could've voted for perlas who is like in 16th place.

there is a movie that mike de leon made called Aliwan Paradise. The movie is set in the future and the government has established the Ministry of Entertainment. The role of this particular agency is to audition new entertainers, which are meant to keep the people pacified and, well, entertained, amidst all the strife and poverty. What can I say? Welcome to the future.

ang bilog na hugis itlog (hindi ang itlog na hugis bilog)

2010-05-10T04:22:00.000-07:00

“Kamusta naman ang pagboto?” text ni Rochelle sa akin.

Oh, it was peaceful and hassle-free, I said. In fact, I feel very much energized.

Of course, I didn’t vote. I was at home sleeping, dreaming of something. There are a lot of things that I don’t do as a Filipino citizen. In fact, there are a lot of things that I don’t do as a human being.

“Di ka ba boboto?” reply niya.

“Nakaboto na ako,” sabi ko, “sa impyerno!”

Cue: Thunder and evil laughter.

I was supposed to vote during the last election but when I got to the precinct I wasn’t on the list. I wish I had the inclination to vote but lately I’ve been extra angry at the human race.

Then MJ sent a text message, asking me if I’ve seen ABS-CBN’s hologram so I turn on the TV. Bongga lang talaga. Like a poor man’s CNN. Then Ces Drilon came on asking an old man if he has voted already. The man says he’s been waiting for hours now. “But don’t you get preferential treatment being a senior citizen?” Ces asks. “Hindi pa po ako senior citizen,” reply ng mama. Awkward laughter from Ces. Kawawa naman, kanina pa nagaantay, napagkamalan pang senior citizen on national television.
I switched channels. Bakit walang hologram ang GMA?!!!

When I switched back to ABS-CBN, Nina Corpus was interviewing some kids. According to her, the kids were paid a small amount to hawk some election paraphernalia. She probably thought it was a scoop. When Nina finally interviewed the children, they denied it completely. Uh-oh. Kasi naman mga bata yan, what can you expect. Even we have difficulty getting anything from celebrity kids. Poor Nina. She panicked and rambled on and on about how the kids told her a different story off cam. As the interview dragged on, we could hear Karen Davila saying “Nina… Nina… NINA!” But Nina just went on begging the kids to admit something on TV. Back in the studio, I could see pity written all over Julius Babao’s face while Karen had a smug one. She probably thought “man, I could handle that interview even with my eyes closed.”

Oh well, I guess Nina’s back to doing entertainment news after this election. What was that word again? Schadenfreude?

Teka, this is just in. According sa report ni MJ, nagpapatutsadahan na raw ang dalawang networks sa pagka-high-tech. Hindi lang labanan sa content (may content nga ba?) kung hindi sa effects. Hmmm… methinks we should have Max Headroom to do the reports (Sorry, 80s reference).

I do salute all those who went out and voted. At least somebody cared. But like I said, I already voted in Hell, which is, after all, where most of our politicians came from.

Sabi nga ng mga jejemons, YuN LnG PoW!

galing dito ang litrato: http://www.everyjoe.com/thegadgetblog/files/2009/11/Smartmatic-Election-Machines.jpg

tuesday

2010-05-03T17:40:00.000-07:00

8:17am
Tuesday
May 4

Parang ayokong simulan ang araw. Parang ayokong lumarga ang umaga na parang isang tren na lumilisan mula sa isang nagse-sentimental na istasyon. gusto ko umaga lang. i want to be frozen in this moment. the boyfriend sleeping on the bed, chi chi taking a refuge in the bathroom. me, smoking in front of the computer facing a blank page. kasi alam kong kapag nagsimula na ang tuesday ko may mga responsibilidad na akong dapat harapin. and it makes me sad just thinking of them. pwede bang mag-day dream muna kahit konti at makinig ng "A House is Not a Home" ni Dionne Warwick?

Tuesday
April 27

It's a quiet Tuesday night. I'm in the middle of finishing a script but somehow my mind keeps trailing off somewhere. i even keep forgetting that i have put a freshly lighted cigarette on my ashtray. the boyfriend is sleeping on the bed while chichi is on my feet dreaming of meat and milk (i hope). god, i'm so in love with the puppy. it feels as if she's really my daughter. i love her so much it is actually painful.uh, i think i'm having a moment. back to work na nga...

Tuesday
April 20, 2010
mcdo, philcoa

nasa isang jeep ako at napansin kong ang ganda ng umaga. gusto ko tuloy pagbabatukan yung mga kasabay ko kasi lahat sila nakasimangot. i'm listening to the soundtrack of ratatouille. i love listening to movie soundtracks because by nature they are condusive to daydreaming. naisip ko tuloy, ang sarap siguro na ang gumigising sa'yo isang orchestra or even a quartet. ang saya siguro nun, ang una mong maririnig ay ang soundtrack ng the english patient. pero siempre naputol sandali ang aking pagmu-muni-muni.

huy, sabi ng other side ko, nagde-day dreaming ka na naman. ano kaya kung gamitin mo ang free time mo na mag-isip ng concept. may meeting ka pa mamaya noh! tapos sinasabi mong wala kang free time eh chos ko lahat ng free time mo nauubos sa kaka-day dream.

but... but... the light is so beautiful, the weather is so warm, and the look on that beautiful girl with anguished eyes seems to be a beginning of a wonderful tragic story...

Call me... Ishmael?

2010-04-23T18:08:00.000-07:00

there is, of course, the irresistible urge to name him after a literary character or give him a name referencing something totally esoteric but at the same time totally dear to me. I've thought of naming him Frodo, a good name that comes from a very good book but i believe a lot of people have already laid claims on tolkien's characters. Naming him after any of the Glass family, on the other hand, would probably be too corny or too obvious. How about Aloysius, Sebastian's teddy bear in Brideshead Revisited? But then, am I saying that I would like to be Sebastian, a legendary dilettante? Medyo pretentious. How about naming him after a favorite filmmaker? Truffaut? Brocka? Eric Rohmer? Puppy fiction? Doggy Allen? Nah. My friend has a dog named DOGlas MacArthur and a pair of love birds named Ferdinand and Imelda (kahit sa simpleng paraan makulong man lang namin sila). Cute no.

After much brain-racking, however, I finally decided on naming him after a word that I learned when I was still reading about the Beatniks. One night in '50s New York, while poet Frank O' Hara was having a reading on stage, a drunken Jack Kerouac shouted: "You're killing poetry, O'Hara!" Kerouac's drinking buddy, who was also in the line-up that evening, poet Gregory Corso, second the motion by calling O'Hara's poetry as chi chi and inconsequential. A feud shortly began and it instantly extended to the cliques of the two writers --- O' Hara was a key member of the New York poets while Kerouac was with the Beatniks. The incident stuck in my head, obviously, along with the '50s word chi chi, which actually means trendy or fashionable. I love the sound of that word --- Chi chi. It's short and it jumps right out of your mouth. It's so memorable that it's so perfect for the newest addition to our household --- a female dog. Yes, she's a bitch. She poops and pees on everything. But she's marvelous. She's so, well, chi chi.

april 23, 2010

happy halloween

2010-04-23T03:23:00.000-07:00

nang dumating ako sa opisina ang una kong nakita si basti, naka-black as usual, ginagala gala ang kanyang maharot na chinky eyes. nakita niya si ella sa may copy machine, busing busy na nagpho-photo copy ng minutes ng meeting. dahan dahan itong lumapit, ang kanyang long white point finger naka-dampi sa kanyang pinkish lips, binabalaan ang mga nakapaligid na huwag maging maingay. suot suot niya sa kanyang ulo ang isang headband na may dalawang red na sungay. at just as expected, ito na nga ang ginamit niya upang sunggaban ang malaki at malapad na puwet ng pobreng PA. "Ay puke mong mabaho!" sigaw ni ella habang ang mga papeles ay tumilamsik at nagkalat sa sahig. "putang ina mo basti, leche ka ha!" sabay hampas ng isang malaking folder sa mga braso ni basti na pilit nagpapahabol. para silang mga grade 4 na naghaharutan sa playground. nobody seemed to mind anyway. it's just basti doing one of his hilarious practical jokes.

dumiretso ako sa writer's cubicle at umupo sa harapan ng computer para magsimulang mag-check ng e-mail.

"o roger bakit hindi ka naka-costume?" sabi sa akin ng isang white lady na kilala ko rin sa pangalang... stella.

"effort!"

"so you just came as yourself?"

"yup. that's horrific enough."

"yaman mo, sayang din yung ten kiyaw mamaya."

"libre mo na lang ako kung manalo ka, which i doubt."

"che! bawal ang nega okay."

lahat sila naka-costume nuong araw na iyon. mamaya kasi halloween party sa opisina at may prize daw ang may pinakamagandang costume.

"and what's he supposed to be?" sabi ko kay stella habang tinuturo ng aking nguso si basti.

"ewan ko dyan. pero in fairness bagay sa kanya yung sungay."

"cute nga."

"gaga, bagay sa kanya dahil salbahe siya."

"ah, ok. oo nga, yun din yun."

bumalik sa pagta-type si stella ng spiels para sa promo kinabukasan habang ako naman nagbukas na ng email. mukhang halloween is a big deal this year dahil may ilang invitations akong natanggap na lumabas sa 31 sa aking facebook . i think i'm going to get smashed this year. three years ago na ata ang huling memorable halloween ko, sa malate as usual, naglasing dahil hindi na ako pinapansin ng isa kong fuck buddy. mangarap ba naman akong maging totoong relasyon ang isang relasyong umiikot sa sex. pero tama lang na ang ending ng gabing iyon ay nilaan ko sa parking lot ng cafe adriatico habang hinahalikan ko ang pavement para isuka ang mga nakain at nainom ko in the past 3 months (pun intended, three months kasi kaming naging fuck buddy, ok). pero bago yun, memorable din yung halloween ko nuong...

"hi roger!"

o shit, si basti, with his winsome smile, peeking at what i am reading.

"don't" sabi ko habang tinatakpan ang mga messages sa screen.

"and who are you supposed to be?" tanong niya sa akin.

"i'm the invisible woman, can't you see?" sabi ko sa kanya.

"hey, where are you? i can't see you. nasan ka ba?"

umismid lang si stella sa pagpapacute ng cute na segment producer.

"i'm here. right in front you."

"where?"

"here."

"where?"

"punyeta, mga bakla! tigilan ninyo nga yan at nangingilabot ako!" sabi ng KJ na si stella.

"i think i'm just going to use my horns to look for you... grrrrrowl!" sabay sunggab ng kanyang sungay sa aking tagiliran.

"Ahahahahahaha! Basti, huwag! Basti, please, nakikiliti ako! Stop!"

Tinigil bigla ni Basti ang paglalandi sa akin (leche) at patawang umalis ng cubicle.

"See you later dude."

"Yeah, dude, see ya later... party on!"

tumingin sa akin ng masama si stella.

"yeah, dude," sabi ko sa kanya. "Cool, pare, repapips, yeah, rad, nice, sweeeeeet... ang hirap magpakalalaki no?"

"bakla, ang landi mo... 'Basti huwag, basti please, basti nakikiliti ako, Staaaaap!' Ang arte!"

"inggit ka lang."

"che, wala akong gusto sa kanya no. hindi ko siya type."

"hay naku, napanood ko na yan sa pelikula ni toni gonzaga at bago kay tin-tin napanood ko na yan sa mga pelikula ni claudine at bago kay claudine, meron nang ganyang drama si ate shawie at bago kay ate shawie ganyan na rin ang plot points sa mga pelikula ni ate guy at kuya pip..."

"wow, that's like four decades of crappy philippine cinema..."

"wow, cineast? may pms?"

"at bago kay ate guy?"

"at bago kay ate guy, hindi pa ako pinapanganak nun. ang nanay ko palang ang gumaganyan sa tatay ko. and look at what all that flirting resulted in... me. fabulous me!"

"kung ganyang mukha lang ang mapapala ko huwag na. magpapakatibo na lang ako."

"ang asim. why do i have a feeling that we're like characters in a mildly entertaining pang-pamilyang pang-valentine's presentation ng isang napaka-commercial na movie outfit..."

"hyper."

"ganyan lang talaga kapag nalalandi ako ng crush ko at ganyan ka dahil may ibang nilalandi ang crush mo."

"kung pang-valentines... hindi halloween presentation na pinagbibidahan ng mga love teams ang eksena natin ngayon ako ang mataray na magandang bida na mamaya lang ay may grand entrance sa party at mananalo ako ng 10k! bonggang plot point yun hindi ba? yahoo!"

"wutever, yaya. mag-google ka na lang."

"ikaw, ang daya mo talaga. pinapatulan ko ang mga kagagahan mo pero yung mga fantasy ko dinededma mo."

"eh kasi naman po, this is not, like, a typical romantic story where the lead gets to have a smart and cute gay friend. baliktad na ang mundo ngayon. ang bida na ang bakla na may best friend na babae. Ako si eric quizon at ikaw si tuesday vargas, period."

"you wish, diego, you wish!"

heniway. back to work. yung next na memorable halloween ko ay nung nagpunta kami ng kaibigan ko sa gateway para ma-meet ang isa sa mga enfant terrible ng lokal na entablado, also known as the founder of spirit searchers, shimmy perez. love ko kaya si shimmy perez kaya nung nagpa-sign na kami sa kanya and he asked us what we do we instantly said: "We're writers!" i guess we were hoping that he will be so impressed with that single statement that he will take us under his wings and coach us on how to get an xxx number of Palanca awards. eh dedma ang lola ninyo. kaya go na lang kami to avail the free tarot card reading that came with the book.

"what do you want to know?" tanong ng tarot reader.

maraming beses na akong napaso sa mga ganyang tanong. halos lahat yata ng mga tanong ko --- kelan ako magkakakotse, kelan ako yayaman, magkaka-award ba ako, may bagong boyfriend ba ako this year --- very unsatisfying at vague ang sagot. kaya naman this time, minabuti ko nang huwag magpagoyo. i want to see the results. fast. as in now na.

"ms tarot reader, what i want to know is, this is so simple, i want to know... what i want to know is am i going to have fun tonight?"

bongga di ba? hindi na ako maghihintay ng bukas o sa makalawa o sa susunod na buwan o kaya next year para malaman kung tama ang sagot niya. mamaya lang malalaman ko na. binalasa niya ang kanyang baraha. pinag-cut ako. binalasa niya ulit. nilatag. naging seryoso ang kanyang facial expression na parang may nababasa siyang monumental --- oh god, am i really going to have fun tonight? like how much fun? as in super fun? tumingin siya sa akin. tumingin ng diretso sa aking mga mata. seryosong tingin. nakakakilabot. nakakatakot. at saka siya nagsalita:

"well, iho, it depends on you."

ache-che. e di sana nagbasa na lang ako ng The Secret at hindi na nagpahula. at least hindi ako nag-aksaya ng panahon at nakapag-ipon pa ako ng positive vibes. o kaya lumunok na lang ako ng kalahating ecstasy para mas makakasigurado akong happy ako that night. kaya naman when i left the mall i had this mantra: I don't believe in an interventionist God. I don't believe in an interventionist God. Whatever happens, whatever I feel, it all depends on me. Bongga di ba?

"stella aren't you going to freshen up before the party?"

tumingin sa akin si stella, ang kanyang buong face ay punong puno ng pulbo with a hint of blood.

"well, you look anemic and i think you need to tone down on the foundation. ang kapal eh."

nakatingin pa rin siya sa akin.

"how about some blush-on? red cheeks? lipstick?"

she just gave me more of her dagger look.

"oh well, i'm just going to pop into the ladies room."

on my way to the lavatory, nakasalubong ko si frankenstein, si twilight, si frodo, isang SM sales lady, isang metro aide at si bayani fernandez. nangilabot ako. kay bayani, i mean. ang daming monsters sa office na ito. nakakaloka. pero winner naman dahil sa cr natagpuan ko si basti na nagyoyosi na magisa. jackpot!

"uy."

"hey."

"trip ko ang horns mo." sabay hawak sa kanyang, well, horns. "so horny. you are such a cutie talaga."

"i am?"

"oh, you know that you are cute."

"but not as cute as you."

then he smiled. i didn't know how to react really. i was still reeling from his last statement. i was, to quote ciara, laving it! end quote.

"basti, are you flirting with me?"

"masama ba?"

"masama kung practical joke yan."

sinunggaban niya ulit ako ng kanyang horns --- i so love those horns --- na-corner niya ako sa may sink. ang dalawang kamay niya ay naka-ankla sa pader, effectively trapping me inside his arms. ako naman, parang nire-rape sa kilig. kung waring nagpipigil pero hindi kumakalas.

"let's partee tonight."

"sure, sino sino?"

"just the two of us."

"a party of two, eh."

"yup, a party of two."

"basti, you are such a devil."

tumawa siya at inayos ang kanyang sungay.

"later at my apartment. after the party. ok?"

"ok."

"see you later dude."

"yeah, dude, see you later."

pagkalabas niya ng cr, tumingin kaagad ako sa salamin. holy shit. maganda ba ako? may pimples ba ako? magulo ba ang hair ko? ito na ba ang kinaaabangan ko? iinom lang ba kami ng San Miguel Pale Pilsen habang kinukwento niya ang kanyang mga girl problems? i'm sure maraming girlfriend ang cutie. naghahanap lang ba siya ng buddy o nang... (tan-tan-tan) fuck buddy? kinilig ang kepyas ko sa idea na iyon. kinilig na parang maingay na pompiyang sa isang marching band sa barangay pag-asa, quezon city.

paglabas ko nang cr, agad kong sinigaw ang pangalan ng aking bestfriend. "Steeeellllla! Steeeeelllla!"

biglang bumaba ng hagdan ang isang palingkera at sinabing: "Hoy, Kowalski pagkatapos mong bugbugin ang asawa mong buntis ngayon magngangawangawa ka dyan na parang baby..."

"Steeeeelllllla!"

Joke. Biglang naalala ko lang.

Pinanuntahan ko si Stella to tell her the very good news pero wala na ito sa cubicle. nagsisimula na kasi ang party at nandun siya sa harapan pilit na nagpapapansin sa bossing na magju-judge sa best in Halloween costume. pero nagpapa-raffle pa lang ng minor prizes, read: toaster, breakfast maker, stand fan, you get the drill. "Ang next na winner," sigaw ng aming echosera at chismosang director na nagho-host ng program. "Ay kilala ko 'to. Nagkita na kaya sila ng kanyang jowang may asawa na...Hmmmm..."

Awkward laughter from the audience. Horrific. Truly horrific. Kaya nag-decide na lang akong bumalik ng aking cubicle.

Insert memorable Halloween # 3. Alalang alala ko pa ito. Ito yung nag-invite sa akin ang kabarkada kong parlorista na samahan siya sa isang binyagan. Nasa closet pa ako nun kaya uto uto ako sa lahat ng sabihin sa akin ni parloristang bakla. Alam mo na, baka ibisto. Echos. After the binyag, inuman daw kami. Nagpabili ng isang bote ng tanduay. nakakalulang tingnan. Akala ko naman pati friends niya makikiinom yun pala kami lang dalawa. Etong si friend kasi mukhang may masamang balak pa sa akin. Buti na lang tomadora rin ako kaya keri ko kahit ilang bote pa yan. Beh! Kaya sa dismaya ni friendship, nag-aya na lang pumunta ng sementeryo ang bakla. Punta daw kami sa puntod ng kanyang parents. So nandun kami sa sementeryo, lasing na lasing, gumegewang gewang, hinahanap ang libingan ng kanyang mga magulang. Eh hindi mahanap. Nakakailang ikot na kami ng sementeryo hindi pa rin nagpaparamdam ang lecheng puntod. So alam ninyo kung ano ang ginawa ng bakla? Nag-search ng the nearest puntod at dun lumuhod at nag-drama. Kinausap at iniyakan ang patay ng iba. Lakas ng tama. Hebigat ang trip. At eto pa, years later, tinawagan ako ng isa pang friend namin. Bumisita daw kami kina bakla dahil may patay sila. Sino siempre ang tanong ko. Ang nanay daw niya, sumakabilang buhay na. Kakalurkey di ----

Biglang naantala ang aking train of thought nang may kumalabit sa akin. Maga-ala Elma Muros na sana ako nang makita ko kung sino ang kumalabit sa akin. Nyeta si White Lady lang pala!

"Yosi tayo," sabi ni Stella.

Ok.

Ok, as predicted, luz valdez ang pobreng si Stella. loser naman talaga siya eh. joke. siempre ako, mega advice. serious advice.

"may solution ako dyan sa problema mo," sabi ko sa kanya. "ngayong gabi, magpakaputa ka!"

Sabay smile kay stella.

"At alam mo kung saan ka bebenta," sabi ko.

Mas malaking smile.

"... sa Balete Drive!"

Bonggang advice!

tumingin lang sa akin si stella, too depressed to even snap back at me.

"i need the money."

"we all need money, honey."

"hindi mo kasi nararanasan pa yung kailangang kailangan mo nang pera eh."

"kaka-sweldo lang ah."

umismid lang si stella. hay naku, iba talaga ang mga luz valdez. kahit anong gawin mo hindi mo mababago ang takbo ng kanilang isipan. parang loser na sila forever. naalala ko tuloy yung kwento tungkol kay ate vi at ate guy. minsan sa isang awards night, may nag-inform daw kay ate vi na siya ang mananalo nuong gabing yun. todo porma naman ang star for all seasons, feeling winner na dahil sa leakage. nagte-thank you na sa hurado kahit best in make-up palang ang ina-announce. kaya naman nung dumating na sa best actress at sinabi ng presenter na "And the best actress is..." halos nakatayo na si ate vi sa kanyang upuan.

"And the best actress is..." sabi ng presenter. "... Nora Aunor!"

Ayun, umuwi daw si Ate Vi nang mag-isa at nagpakalunod sa...

"may rele?" ask naman ni stella.

"Para kang carinderiang nakabukas buong araw..." sabi naman ng cellphone ko. Aba may nag-text.

"Are you ready?" tanong sa akin ni Basti.

Oh shit, this is it!

Napatayo tuloy ako at napa-dance sa harapan ni Stella.

"tonight's gonna be a good good night, tonight's gonna be a ... Ay nandyan ka pa pala. Ok lang yun, Stella. i feel for you... you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Tomorrow's another day! Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I'll love yah! Tomorrow!"

"you're so annoying."

"Annoying na kung sa annoying pero sorry loser, i have to go."

Sinimulan ko nang kolektahin ang aking mga things at mag-bye bye.

"wait," sabi ni stella.

biglang nag-freeze ang dugo ko. oh fuck. alam ko na ang mangyayari.

"no. sige na go, just go."

"it's just going to be an hour or so. pramis mabilis lang ito tapos puntahan na kita."

"no, go. baka sabihin mo pa sagabal pa ako sa kaligayahan mo."

"yey, you're such a good friend talaga. so mamaya, punta kaagad ako sa apartment mo?"

"go. just go."

as i walked away i kept telling myself not to look back. just don't look back. but i did. i can't help it. at nandun siya sa may parking lot, nakaupo, tulala with all her white gown and pasty face. mukha talaga siyang white lady. isang white lady na mayamaya lang ay maglalaho na forever. 'tang ina. putang ina.

"o akala ko umalis ka na."

"kailangan mo talaga yung pera na yun no."

"oo naman. obvious ba?"

"oh well."

"umalis ka na nga."

sakto, nagtext ulit si basti. nasaan na raw ako. lalo akong kinilabutan. nasa car na siya!

"you like him don't you."

"oo naman."

"he likes you too. bagay kayo."

"naks, i love that statement."

"just go. go. i'll be alright."

"sigurado ka."

"oo."

"sigurado ka."

"oo!"

binunot ko ulit ang selpon ko at nagsimulang magtype ng message para kay basti. kay basti na mestizo na chinito na manly na putang ina matitikman ko na sana ngayong gabi. gusto kong umiyak. gusto kong magalit kay stella. gusto kong magpaka-monster. pero hindi ko kaya. galit na galit ako sa sarili ko. tama nga ang tarot reader. am i going to have fun tonight? it all depends on me. it all depends on me.

umupo na lang ako papalapit kay stella.

feeling close? sabi niya.

pabiro man ang kanyang mga salita, alam kong gusto niyang magpasalamat. in fact, she was about to say it when i realized it would be too tragic to verbalize something that's so obvious. besides, i might not be able to handle it. ako man naiiyak sa circumstances ko. so i did what i usually do when trapped in an awkward situation. i just tapped her on the shoulder and said: "i'm bored. let's go home na."

galing dito ang litrato: http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_c1PECt8iT2M/SQzQlWne0HI/AAAAAAAAAT0/eP8UxWdA4mU/s400/halloween2004_1280.jpg

wish list

2010-04-17T06:26:00.000-07:00

For Bam, I would like to find him a producer because I know he'll have the biggest orgasm directing movies

For Filma, I would get her a US Visa so she could finally find herself in the land of milk and honey

For MJ, I would like to find him the most perfect boyfriend because I know anything less wouldn't suffice

For Lany, I would like to find her someone who would love her just as she is

For Weng, I would give her a production company because she's a damn good producer

For Rochelle, I would get her a private plane so she could travel the world over

For Laisa, I would give her a rest house somewhere deep in the mountains where she could repair whenever she needs to

For Jed, I would like to get her reels and reels of film so she could make her odd movies over and over again

For Rik, I would give him millions of dollars so he could do whatever he wants to do regardless of whether his plans still includes me

As for myself, I'm going to get me an island! Population: three. Well, that is if Rik wants to go with me but if not then it'll just be me and my future dog Chichi.

Hay...

Cue Moby

Naisip ko lang

2010-04-17T03:39:00.000-07:00

Bakit pa kailangan makaramdam ng physical pain para lang mamatay? Wala ba talagang painless as in parang lights off lang then exit stage right? Tuloy wala tayong takas. Masaklap na nga ang mabuhay, masakit pa ang mamatay. It’s the perfect prison for cowards like me.

Ps. For sheer incongruity, I am actually smiling as I am thinking of this.

nasa litrato: Mula sa Seventh Seal ni Ingmar Bergman. A medieval knight plays chess with Death who has come to take his life. Hebigat!

Oh look there's a tree!

2010-04-12T19:29:00.000-07:00

Isang snippet mula sa aming road trip anniv special:

Michelle O Bombshell at Chariz nasa isang jeepney, nakadungaw, ina-admire kuning ang magandang tanawin.

Michelle O Bombshell: Oh look ang ganda... It’s a tree and behind it is another tree... it’s a bamboo tree... what?

Chariz: I think I shall never see...

Michelle: O I think I shall never see a poem as lovely as a tree...

Chariz: Yeah…

Michelle: Where monsters dwell in it from shake, rattle and roll 4...

Kakalurkey

Picture above: Buong production team haggardness na after two days on the road

Cape Santiago

2010-04-09T05:58:00.000-07:00

It was already nine or ten in the evening on a quiet Tuesday night. We were on a dark, lonely road in Calatagan, Batangas, looking for Cape Santiago, one of the oldest lighthouses in country. And because we have been driving from one place to another for the last 12 hours (first to San Pablo then to Pagsajan and finally to Batangas), we were understandably tired, hungry, stinking and quite annoyingly lost. Nobody from the people we asked knew where the place was. Luckily, as we drove near the beach, someone, a stranger, right off the dark street, offered to take us there. To be honest, I was a bit bothered by how easy it was for the other passengers to let him in. He led us to this dirt road surrounded with thorny bushes. I know its thorny because the thorns made an eerie sound as they scratched the surface of the van. I looked back and saw that the full orange moon was on our trail, casting a sinister vibe to the whole trip.

The stranger made us stop in what seems to be a cul de sac and immediately I wondered if he was going Kinatay on us. "Are you sure?" I asked my seatmate as we boarded out of the van. Just as when I was imagining the worse, someone appeared holding a lamp. It was the caretaker and secretly I felt stupid for having such a nasty imagination. Incidentally, I was listening to Joshua Bell's Ave Maria because the sad violin made everything in our trip seem poetic. I was so preoccupied with the music that I didn't notice that I was already going inside the creepy lighthouse along with Bam and the caretaker. "San sila?" I asked Bam who ignored me. I looked back and there they were, the rest of the team, framed by the slim door and illuminated by the monochromatic light bulb, waiting outside. Inside, the darkness was portentous. It was the kind that seemed to breathe. It had a nasty feel to it. After showing us the abandoned rooms, the caretaker then led us at the other side so we could take a better look at the lighthouse. We stepped out into a small patch of green land just a few meters from a cliff. Yes, apparently we were on a cliff. The place was surprisingly enchanting especially with the moon's faint glow making everything appear blue. The white lighthouse looks like a ghostly monolith thrusting upwards in the darkness. Above us was the sky with a sea of endless stars while below we could see the equally endless South China Sea dominating the horizon. It was very dramatic. I felt as if I have stepped inside somebody's beautiful dream. I wanted to roam my eyes but I was still afraid I might see something that I shouldn't see. So I just stood there, a few meters from the tip and listened to the soaring violin while drinking in the lovely view.

they grow old without us knowing it

2010-04-09T04:37:00.000-07:00

As I lay on my back on my old bed in my old room, I couldn't help but notice the ceiling. it has grown considerably shabby since the last time i lived here. the white paint has begun to fade while everywhere huge patches of brown stains had materialized. the socket in which a new light bulb is attached is dark with soot and the wires snaking out of it is enveloped with cobwebs. the rest of the room, however, remained the same: the luggage and boxes are still on top of the cabinet, my brother's paintings are still on top of the bookshelf and the magazines from the 90s are still stacked on one side, withering and gathering more dust. i wondered whether we were aware when we dumped them there that they would still be in the same place after a few years. were we aware that the last time we set aside these things were the last time that we would take interest in them? now, they stay forlornly in their place slowly being forgotten. somehow this thought saddened me. it was as if they were anchors that signaled the end of a trip. they were like monuments gathering moss and stinking of history. the beginning of an end, as it were.

i never thought apartments could grow old but of course they do. sometimes, they are the ones that first show signs of aging: the floors lose their shine, the wooden furniture turns into a much deeper color and even the light fades, encumbered by many happy and sometimes sad nights. it is only when one notices these changes that one slowly feels the great passage of time. it is only when one realizes that he has grown old as well. i always thought of old houses as charming with secrets and treasures lurking behind the walls and curtains. but now i realized that when it is your own house you would want it to be forever vibrant and youthful.

recently ive been thinking about how it's better to be that someone who leaves rather than be the one left behind. i remember visiting the town where i grew up in a few years ago. i was fresh out of the university and ive been away from almost 10 years. i remember never peeling my sight away from the car window. i would cock my head every time i thought i saw something familiar because everything seemed unfamiliar. we were already inside the camp when i realized that we were actually threading the grounds where i used to play in. the entire place seemed to have shrunk that i could now hold it inside the palm of my hand. i felt exhilarated. whoever said that immortality is something only the youth enjoyed was right. back then i believed that i could conquer the world. but now, as i lay staring at the ceiling, the same ceiling that i've stared at for most of my youth, i am suddenly reminded of my own mortality and the fact that life has finally caught on me. apparently, all that running was useless because little did i know that i've been secretly settling down all these years. and somewhere, deep in the dark recesses of my mind, my own bodega is already slowly being filled with boxes that will inevitably turn dusty in just matter of time.

natural light

2010-03-27T03:42:00.000-07:00

Ang ganda ng araw today. Parang lahat nang masinagan nito nagiging poetic, nagiging parang flashback sa isang pelikulang galing hollywood. kahit basura at estero, nakaka-trigger ng alaala at melancholia.

march 27, 2010

Art without a frame

2010-03-26T09:39:00.000-07:00

In 2008, the Washington Post wondered whether the average American would recognize beauty if it had suddenly materialized during a busy hour in the middle of a nondescript mall. To find out the answer they planted one of the most accomplished violinists in the world, Joshua Bell, for an incognito performance along with his Gibson ex Huberman (a violin “handcrafted in 1713 by Antonio Stradivari during the Italian master’s ‘golden period’”).

“So would a crowd gather?” asked Gene Weingarten in his article “Pearls Before Breakfast” for the Washington Post. He asked Leonard Slatkin, music director of the National Symphony Orchestra who answered with a resounding yes. But despite Bell’s wonderful performance (a difficult Bach piece, among others), the acclaimed musician earned a mere $32.17 and a just few glances.

“If a great musician plays great music but no one hears... was he really any good?” Weingarten further wrote. “It’s an old epistemological debate, older, actually than the koan about the tree in the forest. Plato weighed in on it and the philosophers for two millennia afterward: What is beauty? Is it a measurable fact (Gottfried Leibniz), or merely an opinion (David Hume), or is it a little of each, colored by the immediate state of mind of the observer (Immanuel Kant)?”
When after a few minutes had gone by and no one seemed to have taken interest, Bell began to be nervous.

“’It wasn’t exactly stage fright, but there were butterflies,’ he says. ‘I was stressing a little.’

Bell has played, literally, before crowned heads of Europe. Why the anxiety at the Washington Metro?

‘When you play for ticket-holders,’ Bell explains, ‘you are already validated. I have no sense that I need to be accepted. I’m already accepted. Here, there was this thought: What if they don’t like me? What if the resent my presence...’

He was, in short, art without a frame.

Ito ang video ng Washington Post: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myq8upzJDJc

The smell of melting soap under the searing heat of the sun reminds me of my childhood trips to the sea.

2010-03-24T03:41:00.000-07:00

galing dito ang litrato: http://www.riparks.com/images/EastBeach2.JPG

next time you are in spain, call me. i just might be doing my laundry in ethopia.

2010-03-19T02:58:00.000-07:00

Bumuga ako at mabilis na lumabas ang mga usok na parang spider web sa dulo ng aking sigarilyo. splat, it seems to say. sticky. fragile and well, webby. sa aking harapan unti unti nang nagiging blue ang dating black na horizon. another day is ahead me pero bakit parang hindi pa tapos ang kahapon. metaphorical ba ito? literal? or just a sign that i need to sleep already. sa aking tabi ang isang bote ng gin. colorless. sa sobrang walang kulay, color silver na.

crash

2010-03-19T02:51:00.000-07:00

Guitar feedback bounces off the four corners of the speeding car. I sit back and feel the noise crawl and echo inside my cavernous ears. Outside,lampposts leave a trail of light across the dark, early morning street. The road is empty and slick with rain. I feel the vehicle gain more speed and I brace myself for the inevitable collision. I want to scream but I seem to be in some sort of trance. I imagine the wind whipping at the windshield. The beats become faster and faster. We are all in confluence now. The metallic sheets of the car, the throbbing veins under my skin, and the asphalt road beneath us. The sensation is oddly enough unbelievably sexy. We head out into the flyover. The vibration fills me with pleasure. I close my eyes and wait for that orgasmic release as we swerve from the road and flyacross the rail. I open my eyes and see light and shadow dancing before me. I smile as we finally nosedive into the hard, cold concrete below.

dream life of zombies

2010-03-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

Do they dream of anything other than food? Do they even sleep at all? Do they always prefer their meal throbbing and stinking of fear? Do they love eating the tender parts of the body more than the crunchy bones? How about the sinewy arms and the pulsating veins? Do they like it when humans struggle out of their clutches? Does the hunt make them hungrier, the dinner even tastier? Have they even dreamt of kinilaw na eyeballs or have swooned over marinated fingers dipped in blood? How about inadobong hita or barbecued ass? I wonder if they would love sinigang na armpit or giniling na leeg? Maybe they would love a cooked meal for a change.

galing dito ang litrato: http://neuronarrative.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/zombies.jpg

The happy horse

2010-02-17T08:30:00.000-08:00

"im dying," her boyfriend said, raising his cigarette to his mouth, inhaling a lung full, "metaphorically." she just looks at him, her boyfriend of two years, a lit major. she grabbed her bag and dashed for the exit. "where are you going?" he screamed after her. she didn't bother to look back. "i'm running," she thought. "away from you. literally."

freak.

upon reaching the main road, she immediately hailed a cab.

"Manong, Tomas Morato po."

And step on it. As the taxi drove away, she wondered whom she would call for a drink. She took out her cellphone and scrolled down for names and numbers.

Patrick? Too brotherly.

Agnes? Too loud.

Enchong? Too gay.

Leslie? Too boring.

Maggie? Too fucked up.

She needed someone to drink with, someone who wouldn't over analyze her generalizations. Someone who would just sit there and wouldn't care. Mostly she just needed someone to drink with.

"Ah, alam ko na," she thought. "Deedee."

She scrolled down for her number and pressed call. The bitch answered on the second ring.

"Busy night?"

"Yeah, busy as always."

"You?"

"I need a drink."

"Ok, where do you want to go?"

Same place as always.

She arrived at the joint a few minutes earlier and had the luxury of picking their spot. This time, she opted to sit outside where she could have a wonderful view of the traffic building up on a Saturday night and the pleasure of being harassed by DVD and cigarette hawkers. She signals to the waiter and gives her order. When Deedee showed up, she has already downed two rum cokes.

"you're buying right?"

"since when did you pay for your own drink?"

"im just saying. i just want it to be clear ok."

she snorts and waves at the waiter again.

"another rum coke?"

"no, im switching to red horse."

"make it four," says Deedee to the waiter. "he's kind of cute."

"you know i don't go for guys."

"but you have a boyfriend."

"he's an exception."

"if you wanted to have a real man you should have gone out with me."

"if i wanted you to lick my pussy i would have asked you years ago."

"fair enough."

"the traffic's building up."

"it's a saturday."

"the red tail lights are kind of nice."

"are you high?"

"high from what?"

"you know what i mean."

"no. why? am i annoying?"

"a bit."

"fair enough. did you know that there is such a thing called as a happy horse?"

"what do you mean?"

"apparently, there's always one bottle of red horse where you can see the horse smiling."

deedee laughs.

"apparently, it's true."

the red horse arrives and the two spend time looking at the logo.

"hey, dee, this one looks like he's smiling."

"nah, i don't think so. i think this one's grumpy."

"and this one's kind of winking at me."

"who knew each logo had its own unique expression."

"i love this drink. i could drink this till morning."

"not unless you get all smashed up first."

"yeah. but i want to get drunk."

"ok. i won't ask why."

"please don't."

"i'm not asking."

"oh come on. please deedee. im not in the mood."

"but since we're on the subject... bakit nga?"

"leche ka deedee."

silence. a young lady from the street spots the two and ambles over.

"flowers for the lady?" she tells deedee as she puts out a bouquet of roses.

deedee looks at her and then at her drunk companion. a smile slowly broke across deedee's face.

"oh god."

"give me two."

"deedee, wag nang makulit."

"it's not for you. it's for peachy and... for her. para sa iyo. ang ganda mo kasi."

"ay salamat po," says the girl, blushing.

"leche ka, deedee, leche ka," she says as she got up to go to the ladies room.

"pagpasensyahan mo na ha, selosa kasi si misis."

"ganyan po talaga ang mga babae."

"oo nga eh. sakit sa ulo."

when she returns to the table, the roses were nowhere to be found. she didn't bother to ask where deedee threw them.

"you only have a bottle left, should i order you another one?"

she looked at her remaining bottle and tried to drink it all up in one gulp.

"girl, easy, take it easy."

"i want to get really really drunk tonight."

"but you're already drunk."

"i know."

"let me drive you home."

"but i dont want to go home."

"why dont you just go home with me."

"fuck you deedee, fuck. you."

"tangina, so what do you want to do? just sit here?"

"bakit hindi? magkamustahan."

"mag-isa ka."

she got a stick from her cigarette case.

"it's humid tonight no. i kind of wish i was in a beach."

"oo nga sarap mag-swimming. remember the time when we..."

"please, don't. not tonight."

"ok."

"look at the couple behind you. aren't they cute?"

"sino? sila? but they aren't a couple."

"yes, they are."

"you're tripping."

"how about that couple over there?"

"that, for sure, is a couple."

"i wonder what he is thinking?"

"who, the one on the right?"

"i think he's thinking 'let's fuck tonight. i'll let you fuck me fucking hard tonight.'"

"and he's saying 'not till you let me rim you.'"

"how sweet. i think i'm getting a hard on."

"you know what i think? i think you're drunk. finish your last bottle and i'll drive you home."

she takes one last swig at her red horse and started collecting her things.

"let's go to rabbits."

"ok, not till you pay our bill."

"ok. waiter."

later at rabbits, the two sit in a corner upstairs. her head is on deedee's shoulder while deedee's clutching a microphone, singing a love song. she just stays that way as her companion slug through set after set of the most blood-curdling love songs known to man. bottles, on the hand, start to pile up on their table.

"you're kind of cheesy, deedee, you know that don't you?"

"this one's for you..."

deedee then launches into a celine dion hit song, the one featured in a disaster movie.

"i think i'm going to throw up," she says.

deedee laughs.

"no, seriously, i think i'm going to blow."

"ay putang ina," deedee screams into the mic while quickly pushing her into the floor. she flies out of her embrace and immediately throws up as she lands on the wooden floor.

"putang ina mo! waiter!"

a guy quickly climbs up the stairs and sees her lying on the floor, swimming in her own vomit. deedee looks on, horrified. she's smiling.

"ma'm iuwi na ninyo ito," the waiter says.

"kung pwede lang eh... hoy nasan ang wallet mo? huy, lasengga, where's your wallet?"

she motions towards her bag as she crawls back to her seat.

"punyeta ka, ang kalat mo! brod, sorry ha. patulong na lang magdala sa kanya sa kotse."

"ayoko pang umuwi."

"ma'm wild itong syota ninyo ah," the guy says.

"di ko syota yan. wala akong syotang lasengga."

with the help of the waiter, they drag her downstairs and finally into deedee's car.

"girl, you fucking stink."

"no, you stink. you fucking moron."

deedee rolls down the window and lights a cigarette.

"so where do you want to go now? i guess i should just drive you home."

"let's just stay here. i want to sleep here."

"tang-ina mare, i swear, i'm just going to kick you out and leave you on the street tonight."

"why don't you just do that."

"wag mo akong i-dare gagawin ko talaga yan."

"dee, i have something serious to tell you..."

"ano? inre-regla ka na? gusto mo nang mami? ano?"

"I'm dying..."

deedee looks at her. dead serious.

"metaphorically, i mean."

deedee whips her hard on the head. "Tang ina mo. Mamatay ka na."

For a split second, she sobered up. She knew she actually deserved that.

"dee..."

"what?"

"dee..."

"ano putang ina!"

"dee.."

"ewan ko sayo. sakit ka sa ulo."

deedee starts the engine and begins to drive them out of tomas morato. in the east, the sun is making its presence, casting an eerie glow in the sky.

"Dee!"

"don't fucking mention it."

Aggravated

2010-02-12T01:36:00.000-08:00

I was about to enter the MRT station when a familiar dread came over me. I just hate security guards poking at my bag. It just makes me so angry. It’s the kind of anger that makes me froth in the mouth. Kapag sinasara ko na ang mga zipper ng bag ko pagkatapos ng isang inspection feeling ako para akong na-rape. I feel like screaming: Hayup! Mga hayuuuuup kayo! Ugh! I just find the entire exercise so demeaning. I know I look like a terrorist and that I appear to be susceptible to abuse but damn it I need some respect too! In fact, security guards and cab drivers are on top of my list of people to pulverize with an M16 once I snap out. One of these days, as God as my witness, I’m going to take up murder as a hobby.

Long live McQueen

2010-02-12T01:04:00.001-08:00

“Nicey nicey just doesn’t do it for me.”

- Alexander McQueen

love letters

2010-02-08T14:38:00.000-08:00

It’s 6:19am and I have a full day ahead. I had just emailed my script for today and I know that my segment producer will bite my head off once we meet later in the studio. I’ve been preoccupied with something lately. Nothing monumental but it’s distracting nonetheless. I am reading the love letters in Criticine while hoping to get picked up in Mirc. Only I don’t really want to get picked up and cheat on my boyfriend it’s just that its 6:19 in the morning and I’m kind of tired and I just need some well-deserved release.

I thought some of the letters were lovely. In Criticine, I mean. I thought the idea of sending a love letter to your favorite filmmaker is lovely. I, myself, wondered whom I would write a letter to. I thought I’d send something to Woody Allen since I just saw Annie Hall again and I fell in love with Woody and Diane and New York and Woody’s wit and Diane’s wardrobe but then I’m not exactly fully acquainted with Woody’s oeuvre. Maybe I should write one for Wong Kar Wai instead. Him, I entirely get. But I do know that such exercise is a bit self-indulgent since in reality I will not be writing the love letter for Wong Kar Wai but I will be writing it for myself.

I need a cigarette break.

what is he doing in my dream?

2010-02-03T11:38:00.000-08:00

i was interviewing quentin tarantino. he was in an american idol-like show and i was trying to have him for a solo interview. in this dream, quentin is gay and he doesnt look like quentin --- big, protruding square jaw, wild eyes with a prematurely balding head. instead he looks pinoy. after i have cornered him, i ask him if he has seen any of filipino indie movies. "how cliche," he told me. other reporters started swarming around us. a female reporter asked about blush-ons and lipstick. quentin's eyes lit up and almost immediately he began talking with much interest. i pore through my notes and when the others had finally left, i told quentin that i asked the question earlier because i thought philippine movies, despite the fact that it has already been pronounced dead, is having some sort of a renaissance courtesy of course of the independent producers. "That's stupid," he tells me. "How can there be a renaissance? Who on earth would watch movies where the characters just sit in a corner and stare at the wall? There's basically no movements in these movies. It's stupid." Then i woke up and i couldn't move both of my arms. Seconds later I realized that I was still in a dream.

Last station

2010-02-03T11:22:00.000-08:00

She closed her eyes and felt for the last time the pain. And then she jumped. At first she thought it would only take a few seconds before her skull met the dry, dusty asphalt below. She knew that she would first experience extreme pain. It would probably be like slamming into a speeding car. Her synapses would probably go haywire and she would be in such excruciating pain that she would be able to hear her own scream inside her head. She would probably scream so loud that her head would explode. Then there would be darkness. Nothing but darkness. And then comfort from the darkness. And finally nothingness. At that point she would always be referred to in the past tense. She would be part of history. Someone who once existed. Someone who was once
real. This thought made her smile. It gave her enough strength.

But as she dove into the empty street, she saw the sky. Clear, blue sky. She saw the shocked faces peering down from the platform above. She heard the screams and the traffic below. She felt the wind flow through her clothes. Through her skin. "You should've been here," she thought, "with me, falling from the sky. You should've been with me, holding my hands, whispering comforting words in my ear. But you are not. I am alone. Falling to my death."

Suddenly, she felt wings burst out from her spine. Large, wide, white wings that flapped noisily in the air. And she felt them pulling upwards, struggling to keep her afloat. But it was too late. The pull of the earth was too great. Then it happened, just as she has imagined it to be.

Splat.

Johnny oh please be good

2010-01-28T21:01:00.000-08:00

Dear Lloydie,

O Llyodie. Oh my dearest Johnny boy. You are so cute especially with that wisp of hair growing above your lips. Parang kang batang nagbibinata. Buti na lang hindi tayo nagkatuluyan dahil kung ganun siguradong mabubuwang ako sayo ng bonggang bongga. Hindi ko yata keri ang kiligin every morning at ma-lost every time na aalis ka para sa iyong taping, shooting, whatever. You are like a teddy bear with those slightly big black eyes, chubby cheeks and full lips. Parang ang sarap-sarap mong yakap-yakapin, amoy-amoyin, halik-halikan, kan... never mind. I love you too much to put into writing my crazy salacious thoughts. Buti pa si Ciara, naging jowa ka. Alam mo bang nakita kita minsan sa Makati Avenue? Naglalakad lang ako papunta sa sakayan ng jeep nang biglang nakita kitang lumabas ng isang van. Naka-suot ka ng orange jeans, bulky shoes, at checkered vest. Buti na lang you were smiling oh-so-naughtily kaya hindi ko napansin ang iyong fashion disaster. I think kakatapos mo lang mag-host ng Swatch launch nuon kung saan nagkita kayo ni Liz Uy. Na-TV patrol pa nga kayo dahil nanalo si Liz ng prize at ikaw ang nag-bigay. I guess you still remember. Well, you don't remember me of course pero siguro yung araw na iyon, with Liz Uy and the press and all.

Oo nga pala, I just saw "In My Life" last night. I was so kilig. And did you know that I cried with you during the scene where you got the news that your mom got cancer? I was crying because you were crying and I thought it was slightly therapeutic on my part. Ang mga Pinoy talaga, sentimental pagdating sa pamilya.You look so good with just a white T-shirt on. Ang hindi ko lang nagustuhan yung angle mo nung finally ni-reveal ni Luis na bumalik yung cancer niya. Masyado kasing na-emphasize yung thinning hair mo. Pero you look dashing during your confrontation scene sa funeral. Tama nga ang mga tabloid writers, nilamon mo si Ate Vi. In fact, natuwa naman ako sa pelikula. It's essentially ang Lloydie-Ate Vi tandem. I thought it was clever how Raymond Lee and the other scriptwriters sold the pairing without making up a love angle between you two. Kakakilig kaya yung mga kissing scenes mo with Luis. Nag-wish nga ako na sana ako na lang ang hinahalikan mo. Buti na lang at wala siya masyadong screentime dahil he wasn't doing the movie any good. Tsaka sana yung director ninyo mas naging tight ang pag-edit dahil merong mga superflulous scenes. Sinilip ko nga yung mga na-delete na at sa awa ng Diyos buti naman at naiwan na ang mga eksenang iyon sa cutting room floor. Pero don't worry, I'm also a fan of Olivia Lamasan. May mga napanood naman akong pelikula niyang natuwa rin ako tulad ng Sana Maulit Muli. At in fairness, mas nagustuhan ko naman ang In My Life kesa sa mga past movies mo pero I haven't seen You Changed My Life with Sarah Geronimo.Hayaan mo susunod na.

At honey may bagong pelikula ka pala. Hindi ko nga lang alam kung magugustuhan ko pero sige na nga Lloydie, papanoorin ko na rin. Hayaan mo, kapag napanood ko babalitaan na lang kita.

Till then,

Mario

galing rito ang litrato: tunaynababaero.blogspot.com/2009/06/john-lloyd

mag-moment nga muna

2010-01-18T19:57:00.000-08:00

listening to debussy while staring at my pulsating brown navel, fascinated with all the hair that's crawling down my pants. outside, clouds float by, scattered like specks of semen on a clear blue water.

ps. sabi ng mga ka-trabaho ko: tama na ang drama. bakla, may ep pa tayo mamaya. magtrabaho ka na punyeta! ahahaha!

how i wish

2010-01-11T12:51:00.001-08:00

i could experience pleasure without the cruel after taste
or the hangover
or guilt

pleasure without context
without consequences
prolonged, not ephemeral
ungodly, unnatural, unprecedented
ceaseless and unwavering

pleasure so good it explodes
right through the fingertips

everything in moderation

2010-01-11T12:48:00.000-08:00

"In everyday language, the term 'hedonism' denotes an amoral tendency to a life of sensuality, if not outright vice. This is inaccurate, of course: Epicurus, the first great theoretician of pleasure, had a highly sceptical understanding of the happy life: pleasure is the absence of suffering. Suffering, then, is the fundamental notion of hedonism: one is happy to the degree that one can avoid suffering, and since pleasures often bring more unhappiness than happiness, Epicurus recommneds only such pleasures as are prudent and modest. Epicurean wisdom has a melancholy backdrop: flung into the world's misery, man sees that the only clear and reliable value is the pleasure, however paltry, that he can feel for himself: a gulp of cool water, a look at the sky, a caress."

- pg. 8 "Slowness," Milan Kundera

Wouldn't it be nice?

2010-01-02T12:41:00.000-08:00

Since 2010 started a little heavy for me, I thought I could use some good vibrations. What I did was I downloaded a few Beach Boys songs and so I'm now dancing to Surfin' USA.

"If everybody had an ocean/ Across the U.S.A./ Then everybody'd be surfin'/ Like californ-I-A/ You'd see 'em wearin' their baggies/ Huarachi sandals, too/ A bushy bushy blonde hairdo/ Surfin' U.S.A."

I know baggies, huarachi sandals and bushy, bushy blonde hairdo sounds like a manong hippie with toasted wrinkly skin. But listening to the song at 4 in the morning on a cold January night is actually quite fun. This despite the fact that the song immediately reminds me of a horrible summer production number complete with celebrities singing off-key while dressed in tacky Hawaiian shirts.

"Well she got her daddy's car/ And she cruised through the hamburger stand now/ Seems she forgot all about the library/ Like she told her old man now/ And with the radio blasting/ Goes cruising as fast as she can now/ And she'll have fun, fun, fun till her daddy takes the T-bird away..."

That's "Fun, Fun, Fun" by the way. The bubblegum beat goes straight into my brain and assures me of an LSS to last an entire week. My daddy had a T-bird once actually which I saw parked in his house in Katipunan. The car's unusual passenger door (baliktad kung buksan) and its huge front with Batcar-like designs fascinated me endlessly. But of course, what I'm listening to over and over again right now is "Wouldn't It Be Nice." The bouncy beat and the dreamy tone of the song fills me with longing. In fact, I'm waiting for the boyfriend to wake up so I could play it at full blast.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up/ In the morning when the day is new/ And after having spent the day together/ Hold each other close the whole night through/ Happy times togehter we've been spending/ I wish that every kiss was never ending/ Wouldn't it be nice?"

Then we could be married and be happy? That would be nice as well although I never believed in marriage much less in homo-marriage. But pure yellow sunshine and vast, clear blue skies in the morning and cool breeze and beer in the evening with nothing to think about but the good life? That would certainly be nice. No, it would be heaven.

Oh well. It's 4:26am on a Sunday and I haven't done anything yet. Time to turn off the Beach Boys and go back to work.

galing dito ang litrato: artwall.us/scenic/tropical/images/sunset.jpg

Paging Carl Jung

2010-01-02T09:41:00.001-08:00

1.

The scene was straight out of Love Story, the bit where Warren and his lady love dropped by Katherine Hepburn's house in some beautiful island. There were verdant hills everywhere and the sky above was like a vast empty blue space, like an infinite ocean.

I walk down the valley where there were a couple of glass houses (or houses made of glass) . I was talking to some people when I hear a faint Natalie Merchant song. I excused myself to find where the music was coming from. It was already dusk and I thought it would be just lovely to sit and listen to the song while watching the sun slip into the horizon. My search led me to a young man living in one of the glass houses. I asked him if he could turn the stereo louder. We went inside the house and I was immediately impressed with the interiors. The walls were made of glass as well and I could clearly see the hills from the living room. It was small and a bit cluttered and everywhere I looked there were books of all kinds. "Eto ang dream house ko," I thought to myself.

After a few minutes, we went outside again. He was shy and I just realized it now that he bears some resemblance to my first boyfriend. He was mumbling something. He asked me if I wanted to stay over the night and if I did he said I could sleep in his room. Then we were off, walking towards the hills, looking for a space to fuck.

2.

Nasa QC Circle ako lulan ng isang jeepney. Kasama ko ang kaibigan kong si Lany. Sabi niya: Remember the crisis that we went through in the '90s? Sa isip isip ko, what crisis? You weren't in a crisis. I was in a crisis. Katabi namin ay isang baklang teacher at ang kaibigan niyang babae. May welga na naman, sabi niya.

We were now in Espana. "Hayaan mo sila," sabi ni professora. "Bigyan ko nga sila ng uno dahil sumasama sila sa rally."

Nasa isang malaking bed kami. Ako, ang ka-opisina kong lesbiyana, si professora at ang kaibigan naman niyang lesbiyana rin. The two lesbians were talking about love.

"If she's ok then why are you still looking for another one," sabi ng isa.

"Nagka-syota ka na ng artista? Siguro masaya yun," singit naman ng kasama ko. Hindi ako nakikinig. I was somehow transfixed at a dark, empty apartment on the fourth floor. i knew it was abandoned because i was forever spying on it when i still lived in the area. Nakabukas lahat ng bintana at pintuan at ang makikita mo lang ay ang kadiliman sa loob nito. Then nakita ko siya. Isang babaeng naka-white, mahaba ang buhok biglang nag-cross ng room. Then another sighting. Para siyang paikot ikot sa loob ng apartment. I realized that she was dancing. Binubulong ko na sa mga kasama ko: Nakita mo siya? Nakita mo siya? Nakita rin nila.

Then I am on our bed, facing my boyfriend. I could see him dreaming as well. Nakita mo siya? tanong ko sa kanya. Bigla akong nakaramdaman na may isang taong tumabi sa akin at yumakap. "Siya na ba ito?" tanong ko sa boyfriend ko who kept on dreaming. "Siya na ba ito?"

Then I woke up and heard my boyfriend talking in his sleep.

3.

my boyfriend and i were going to an orgy. he was reluctant but still i kept on telling him that it would be fun. the place was a little shabby and the guys were mostly unattractive. the boyfriend began making out with a rather cute kid while i stood in some corner eyeing other men. the host was beside me, playing with a gun. suddenly it goes off and hits the kid who was with my boyfriend. when i saw blood come out of the kid's head, i immediately grabbed my boyfriend's hand and went out of the house. for some reason, we were fleeing like fugitives. i didn't want to be implicated with the accident.

4.

My eyes were bleeding. Blood was streaking down my face like a black Max Factor mascara. My boyfriend was there but he didn't seem too alarmed. I remember taking note of the color of the blood. It wasn't red at all. It was darker, more like maroon.

5.

My mother keeps dreaming of dogs. Evil dogs who bare their teeth inches away from her face. I take it that the dogs were huge and black and slicked with slime. Apparently, she woke the entire household a few days ago when she let out a scream in her sleep. A few days before that she dreamed of dog turds scattered all over her backyard.

Meanwhile I dream of Piolo Pascual. In my dream, I was trying my best not to bring up the subject of men. I go around in circles, asking him artsy-fartsy questions when all I wanted to know is if he is really into guys.

The illustration above is from Carl Jung's "Red Book." Apparently, Jung wrote and illustrated his dreams between 1914 and 1930 when he decided to retreat from the academe. Although Jung considered that period of his life as an experiment ("a voluntary confrontation with the unconscious," sabi sa Wikipedia), some of his biographers are still wondering if he was, in fact, undergoing a psychotic episode at that time. The illustrations were kept in a vault until recently when it was published in the US.

Just shoot me

2009-12-27T07:37:00.000-08:00

The boyfriend took the photo above. My brother’s SLR has been sitting in our room for months and I thought I should return it already. And since it still had a few shots left in it, my boyfriend and I took turns in photographing ourselves. Most of my photos were blah but his were very promising. Didn’t know he had an eye for photography. In fact, I was so in love with his photos that I think I should put him through photography school chos. I told him that if I were to die tonight or tomorrow or anytime in the next century he should use the photo for the funeral because, well, I was essentially thinking of heaven when it was taken --- A warm afternoon in downtown Morocco with hashish escaping from my dry, bitter mouth.

pretty in blue

2009-12-24T23:25:00.000-08:00

Mula dito:

Naging ganito:

from intercontinental drama:

to intergalactic love affair:

There is this comic book, which I read in Carlo Vergara's blog about a superhero who has the ability to turn himself into any bird. Yes, any bird. Sabi nga ni Vergara sa kanyang entry, anong gagawin niya sa power na ito kung ang kalaban niya ay may mga megarobots from hell, turn into maya maya perhaps? But his superpower came in handy when a certain species of dinasaur in a far-flung planet were about to go extinct. The plan was for him to mate with one of the dinasaurs and hopefully inject his morphing abilities into their DNA strain. So off he went to this planet in search of a mate. Eventually he found one but the female dinosaur didn't want anything to do with him since she already has a partner to begin with. What this stupid superhero did was to fight off the boyfriend and then force himself into the female dinosaur. Yes, it's all about murder and rape. It was quite fun and believe me, insanely funny.

I was actually reminded of this comic book when I saw Avatar, James Cameron's megablockbuster. I've been hearing alot about the movie for the past few days. One even sent a text message to a friend saying that it was "stupendous." Stupendous in what way? I thought. Nakakagulat dahil ang ganda ganda o nakakagulat dahil ang mahal mahal tapos yun lang yun? Now that I have seen Avatar, I thought it was... pretty. Oo, pretty. From the beautiful violet pamaypay on top of the those elephant-like creatures na para lang nanggaling lang sa art department ng Priscilla Queen of the Desert to the floating jellyfishes hanggang sa mga diamonds sa blue skin ng mga Na'vi. Pati nga ang prints sa mga flying inkara ang ganda. Masayang gawing bag. In fact, I also found Sam Worthington's avatar version cuter. When he turns into himself, natu-turn off na ako. Pandora is also lovely: all those neocolors, all shimmery and Rainbow Britey. It made me think what I will experience if I were to watch the movie na bangag. I once read that when 2001: A Space Odyssey came out, the stoners would watch the movie for the trippy effects.

Avatar's plot is thin enough that everybody can project their own take on what it is really about. Some say it's anti-war, which it is. Others say it's about the environment. Well, of course. Some say it's racist, what with the Na'vis sporting dreadlocks and tribal accessories. One critic even went out to accuse Avatar as a bit racist. Why, he asks, does the white man have to lead the Na'vis into their salvation? But then it's always been like that in American movies, isn't it? After all, the movie is geared towards American audiences and in order for them to willingly take the journey one should always put one of them in the lead. Second, I think if it wasn't Jake who led the resistance, James Cameron would have probably been accused of as anti-American. Sino nga naman ang villian kung hindi ang corporate America?

For me, basically, I saw Avatar as a retelling of Pocahontas. John Smith arrives in Pandora, finds exotic creatures and gets it on with the natives. There is even a scene in the movie where I actually thought there were going to sing "Colors of the Wind" ("You think you own the land that you land on...). Avatar was so predictable that I thought the movie was three hours long. It only picks up when action ensues, something that James Cameron is quite good at. In fact, I thought the best thing about "Titanic" was when it sank. Come to think of it, I think I enjoyed "True Lies" more than Titanic and Avatar. At least in that movie, the humor was snappy and witty and fresh. Eh sa Avatar, ano ang joke? That he came from the Jarhead clan? Har. Har. Har. Near the end of the movie, as the Na'vis were fighting with humans I was already looking for the exit.

On our way home, my boyfriend and I talked about other possible titles for Avatar.

"Revenge of the Smurfs?"

"Baka pwedeng Colors of the Wind."

"Hmmm... Neocolors of the Wind."

"Rage against the machines?"

"Too manly. Pwede kayang 'I see you?'"

And so on and so forth.

But the boyfriend was completely taken with the movie. He thought it was about the proletarian insurgence against the evil empire. "Si James Cameron isang communista," sabi niya. Uh, ok. "Walang binatbat sa favorite movie of the year mo." When he said that, my eyes lit up completely. I was suddenly reminded of the scenes of my most favorite movie ever! At least yun, ang galing galing ng acting, ang ganda ang plot, masaya, exciting from beginning to end. May action, drama, suspense and the script was brilliant. Simply brilliant. Of course, I'm taking about the best movie of 2009 with the lead actress surely winning the Urian, Famas, Golden Screen at Young Critics Circle for Best Actress. It's no other than Kimmy Dora!

for you i was a flame

2009-12-03T04:27:00.000-08:00

With her hair wet from the shower, she steps into her kitchen and sits before the dinning table. It's already five in the afternoon and the room is covered in shadows. She collects her hair and ties them in a bun. She could still feel the summer heat coming in and wondered if the night would be as hot as yesterday. She takes out a stick from her pack and puts it on her lips. She reaches for her lighter and flicks it. A small flame illuminates her face as she bends down to light her cigarette. She could hear the tight little leaves burn as she took her first sip. From the living room she now hears the record she has put on earlier. The drum sticks fall briskly and suddenly a beat arises. The guitar was barely introduced when the singer, her life evident in her coarse, lovelorn voice, began singing.

"For you I was a flame... love is a losing game..."

She stares into the deepening darkness and immediately gets lost in her own groove.

The music continues, traveling across the building like a thin smoke. A young man hears it and ponders at the lyrics. "Fire-story fire as you came," he mutters to himself. "Love is a losing game? What does that mean?" Another man enters the room.

"What?" he asks him. "You were talking to me?"

"No, I was just thinking aloud."

His face was already red from all the beer they have drunk that afternoon. The other man sidles next to him and suddenly he feels his heart beat faster.

"Are you ok?" the man asks him.

"Just a little drunk."

The man smiles and climbs further into the bed. He takes his shirt off and takes out his cigarettes.

"Why don't you come near me?" the man instructs him.

He takes off his shoes and sits beside him. He could feel sweat breaking all over his body.

"I was just thinking," he tells him. "I was just thinking..."

"What were you thinking?"

"Well, it's already five and I was wondering if she has already picked up the kids from school."

The man looks at him disappointingly and lights another stick.

"You want one?"

He doesn't smoke and wonders if he will ever pick up the habit. He accepts anyway and leans back, sucking in the smoke for the very first time. The nicotine goes straight into his head and suddenly he feels even woozier. The man looks straight into his eyes and smiles again.

"Why don't you take off your shirt," the man tells him. He shouldn't really be doing this. He really shouldn't be in this room, in this situation but there he was, touching the man's hand as he helps him with his shirt.

"I should be at home with the wife and kids," he tells the man. "I should be at the table, waiting for dinner..."

"Tell them you went out with your buddy," says the man as he touches the fringes of his skin.

"I shouldn't be doing this," he tells him. "I shouldn't be with you..."

The man traces the outlines of his shoulder and moves his fingers to his chest. He could feel every nerve in his body come alive.

"I really shouldn't be here..."

"Let's just say we're experimenting, finding out what will happen if I do this..."

Suddenly, the man's lips were on his neck. Despite himself, he leans back and lets him have it.

He could now hear the song again. "Why do I wish I have never played," the woman sings. "O what a mess we have made..."

His entire body begins to open up, letting the man step further and further into him.

"You like this don't you," he tells him. But before he could answer, he has kissed him full on the lips. He was already losing control.

"We'll meet again, will we?" he asks the man.

"Of course, we will."

The man grabs his pants and jerks it down.

"When will we meet again?"

"We can do this as often as you like."

He takes off the man's pants.

"But aren't you moving away?"

"Let's just enjoy this."

"But you can't just leave me like this."

The man kisses him on the lips again, effectively shutting him up. He grabs him closer and bites him all over his body. He has never been this hungry before, never been as voracious.

The man stops him for a moment. For the very first time since they began making love, he looks at him straight in the eye. Memories of the wife and kids linger briefly in his mind. The man dives into his chest and he finds himself giggling. The man travels deeper down his body. He lay with his eyes firmly shut and with his hands touching the man's wet hair.

"Played out by the band..." sings a gigly teenager from a floor below.

"Is she playing that song again?" answers her friend.

"She never gets tired of it!" she barks into the phone. "I swear."

"I kind of like Amy Winehouse."

"Aimee Whinehouse you mean?"

The girl at the other end laughs.

"Hey, did Chase show up at the fair?"

"Where did you find him?"

"He's cute, isn't he?"

The girl didn't answer back.

"I actually met him online."

"Ah, where? what site?"

"In a chat room. It was like one in the morning and I was happily chatting away with some guy from UP and then he macked me."

"This isn't one of your sexcapades is it?"

"How I wish. I really like him."

"Do you really like him as in really, really like him?"

"Well, I don't know. It depends."

"It depends on what?"

"I don't know."

"I have something to tell you."

"What?"

"Remember when you introduced him to us last Saturday? At Dencios? Remember?"

"Of course, I remember. That was just five days ago. Why? Did something happen?"

"Well..."

"Well what?"

"I'm telling you this because we're really good friends."

"Yes?"

"Well..."

"Well what?"

"I know you're going to hate me for this."

Silence.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here. I'm just waiting for what you are going to say. The suspense is killing me, ok!"

"He was with us right?"

"Yes, I know that he was with us. What did he do? Does this even concern me?"

"Well..."

"Well what? Just blurt it out. I can handle it. We've been friends for like five years. Did he hook up with someone?"

"Well... he tried."

Silence.

"Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here. I just need to sort out the cord. The music is getting on my nerves."

"You know what, I really shouldn't be telling you this..."

"Well, you have already told me something so you might as well tell me everything."

The music continues to echo. "Memories mar my mind," the woman sings. "Love is faith resigned..."

"She is really getting on my nerves!"

"Just ignore her ok."

"I'm trying ok. I'm really, really trying."

"So now you are upset. I can't tell you now or else you are going to be pissed off."

"Don't be stupid. I'm not going to be pissed off."

"Well, you already are."

"Just tell me goddammit!"

"Ok. Ok. I'm going to tell you already!"

"What is it then?"

"Well, he sent a text to me."

"So?"

"He's asking me out."

"What?"

"I said I thought he was with you. Well, are you?"

Silence.

"Still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here."

"Well, I asked him how he got my number and he said he got it from you. Did you give it to him?"

"No. He didn't ask for it."

Silence.

"He was playing with my phone. Maybe that's when he got your number."

"Oh."

"Over futile hours," she sings. "And laugh at by the gods..."

"This music is killing me. It's really getting on my nerves. I think I'm going down to talk to that stupid lady."

"Wait. I wasn't planning on meeting him anyway."

"Yeah, yeah I know."

"You know that he's a good for nothing jerk."

"Ok. Ok. I got to go ok."

"Wait, you're not mad at ---"

Click.

The music echoes through the building.

"For you I was a flame," the woman sings. "Love is a losing game."

The CD is on loop. She stares at the ashtray shaped like a fish. Upon its mouth there is a dent where a fresh cigarette sits smoldering in the darkness. She licks her dry lips and tries to sing along with the music. But for some reason she couldn't. "Self-professed profound," she sings, trying to follow the beat that continuously evades her. She sings anyway. "Till the chips are down," she whispers, "... And now the final frame, love is a losing game." Her voice trails off in the dark, smoky kitchen while the music ends and starts over again.

31

2009-11-24T03:22:00.000-08:00

at around 12 midnight i received a text message that our meeting would be moved to thursday, which was great. i wasn't going to do any thinking tonight anyway. i never was a bibo kid. i always do my work just as my bosses are asking for it. i took the message as a cue to have a cup of coffee while i finish the rest of the book im currently reading. lately ive been feeling extra volatile. i know, i always write in every entry that i'm in the grips of a major emotional breakdown but believe me there are days when i'm happy and every bit satisfied with my life. those are the days when i dont write anything because then i wouldn't have anything interesting to write about --- not that i find misery more fascinating than happiness but when the weather is generally clear i always opt to spend it outside than to stay home and think about how pitiful life is. i guess i'm down mostly because it's november and i always go crazy during my birthday month. the days leading to it and the few days after are especially excruciating. it's just like christmas. i always think that i should be ecstatically happy during my birthday and when it doesn't turn out that way --- even if it was just normal day with no hassles or anything --- i still feel like shit. this year, however, i was actually okay the day before my birthday. although i must point out that at around noon i was already becoming a little sentimental. on my way to work, i saw a handsome middle eastern guy who was probably in his late twenties. his face was something i believe i have already dreamed of in the past. i felt like tim burton stumbling upon my own helena bonham carter. but of course all i did was admire him from a distance since i was never the type who could pick up a man in the middle of a busy street. and so i told myself --- and this is truly barf-inducing presumption --- that perhaps the guy was a present from the gods. of course i would have preferred if he was given to me wrapped in a bow (and only a bow) but the sight of him made me a little cheerful, which was good. when i arrived at the studio i saw yael, that sexy guy from spongecola, and guess what i claimed him as another lovely present as well. my day was cruising along perfectly when just as we were about to end our episode at close to midnight our segment producer slipped a manila paper in our boards, which announced that it was my birthday the next day. when the hosts read it my blood froze instantly. more than embarassment, i felt anger, prompting me snap at our poor assistant. i tried to play along but i think my face gave it all away. on our way home, i couldn't feel more depressed. it's not that im not appreciative of the greetings (lots of people actually greeted me this year, even some strangers on the net) but every time someone greets me a "happy birthday" or even a "merry christmas" i always feel like slashing my wrist. i always think that just as they are wishing me well they are also pitying me. the happy birthday is not so much as a shout for joy but more like a condolence. i know that i could very well be hallucinating this (which could be true in some cases) and that i may have just been projecting my own feelings but damn it it still hurts like hell. it's enough to make me believe that perhaps in reality funerals are a tad more cheerful than birthdays and christmases.

P.S. On the day of my birthday, I met Filma at Trinoma. "Happy Birthday," she said just as I was about to approach her. "And by the way," she added. "I have a stone in my gall bladder and I need P100,000 for the operation." My friends, they are such fun people. Out of the three who invited me out for lunch, I just had to choose her. She just got out of the hospital today by the way.

picture above: my boyfriend and i were bored out of our wits so to entertain ourselves we took photos of each other. we wanted to know what i would look like if i had hair. rakenrol!

In Greenbelt 5 where I started to wonder

2009-11-11T18:58:00.000-08:00

i wonder if the Jimmy Choo-clad
patrons of Greenbelt 5
ever thought of starving
kids or

Social injustices that leave
families with burning
hunger and desire

I wonder if they ever wonder
what happens in the
countryside where

farmers toil the land
day in and day out
digging the earth
for food that's never
ever enough

and how about the
kids of Kalimugtong
who trek violent lands
with slippers as thin as
their soles are thick

but i do think they think
about these things from time
to time when the news is
on and when today's paper
is splayed before them

but such thoughts are
too horrible to contemplate
too painful to contain

not when they are entering
the sparkling glass doors
of Greenbelt 5 or dining

in an antiseptic environment
where such thoughts poison
the chilly air

better to shoo them away with
a slight hand as one would do
to an unexpected fruit fly
begging to take a piece
of a delicious tiramisu.

Wala lang. Reaction ko lang after re-reading Emmanuel S. Torres' "Another Invitation to the Pope to Visit Tondo" sa Philippine Literature: A History and Anthology.

galing dito ang litrato: http://freshmess.files.wordpress.com/2008/12/greenbelt5_2_lr.jpg

el fili

2009-11-11T03:06:00.000-08:00

"The glory of saving a country cannot be given to one who has contributed to its ruin."

- stated by Father Florentino in Jose Rizal's El Filibusterismo

galing dito ang litrato: http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2471/3578674536_95f5fa46c3.jpg

batman was in my building

2009-11-05T19:02:00.000-08:00

i was coming down the building when i saw a kid wearing a batman costume climbing up our fire exit. pero hindi, hindi naman siya na-late sa trick or treating. in fact, the curious thing about it is that he seems to have been wearing the costume since sunday (it's thursday already). i thought it was odd. and cute. imagine, araw araw siyang naka-batman costume. lupet di ba? naisip ko tuloy kung magkaka-anak ako siguro magiging kunsintidor din ako sa mga hilig ng anak ko no matter how odd it is. "You want to go to school wearing a nun's outfit? kahit lalaki ka? sure! go ahead!" "what? you like burning down houses because huge flames make you feel warm and fuzzy? no problem, here's a lighter." that or i'll be forever reminding him what a big loser his father is. loser --- no, i mean, father. man, that's a scary word. that's like next to STD and dementia in my list of things to be scared about. (but why on earth will you be scared of being a father, mario? when there's no chance in hell that your chromosomes will be transferred to a female specie even if she looks like brad pitt. ang sagot ko: bakit ba? get your own phantom fears to worry about.)

teka, teka mario, back track a little. di ba you hate children? di ba you even hate being in a relationship (even if you are in one)? i think this is a sign that not only did i woke up in the wrong side of the bed this morning, i actually woke up in another dimension. ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your straight jackets and take out your tranquilizers, we are now approaching cuckoo land. i don't know, it's probably because i woke up at around 4am and since then i've been a psycho mess (psycho na, mess pa ka.ka.lowka). this is a clear sign that i can no longer hold down a nine to five job because by lunchtime i'll be frothing in the mouth and calling for medea (whoever she is). i just thought of it now, maybe batman junior was just an hallucination. maybe he was just a remnant of a dream i had last night. pwede but then i don't remember dreaming about batman. i did however dreamed about congratulating someone on her Urian nomination. kaloka. this is getting creepy. i hope i survive this day.

nov. 5, 2009

ps, galing dito ang larawan: http://www.moonsaildesign.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/ron1.jpg

the world is our playground and we will always be home

2009-11-03T02:03:00.000-08:00

8:22am. just came from my mother's house. haven't gotten any sleep because falling asleep is one of the things that i find difficult to do ever since i was a kid. the other one is peeing. i lay on the bed listening to up dharma. it's the same song that i keep playing over and over again back when we were still in the old apartment. the same song that i listened to when i first fell in love with the boyfriend. i look up and there he is looming above me, framed by the white ceiling. i tell myself that if he stoops down to kiss me i'm going to get a book and start reading. but he doesnt kiss me so i didn't move. he went to the kitchen and started cleaning up. i tell myself that if he asks me if i want coffee then i'll turn over and shift position. he doesnt say anything or perhaps the music is just too loud. i keep on dreaming. the song ends and i press play again. i look beyond the door and watch the blue sky with the white clouds. it's a beautiful day despite the fact that pagasa has announced that there is a storm coming. the boyfriend enters the room and i tell myself that if he snuggles beside me then ill start typing what is on my mind. he does lay on the bed and so i start typing this. he runs his hands on my back and gives me a massage. i tell myself that if he touches the back of my neck then i'll stop writing and try to sleep. he rubs my shoulders. i wait in anticipation. and i wait. and i wait. until he finally does and i start shutting down.

Because we like boys in cars, boys who buy us drinks in bars

2009-11-01T07:10:00.000-08:00

There’s this impossibly cute guy --- ok, several impossibly cute guys --- in my Downelink list of friends that make me wish I’m still single. Not that they would date me but at least I’m a couple of hundred steps closer to reality if I were unattached. What is it about guys that make me wish things: wish that I was taller, smarter, cuter…

The other day while on a tricycle on my way to my mother’s house, I was thinking about sex. I was wondering why I am so obsessed with it. If I’m not doing it then I’m thinking about it (arguably, I think of it more often than I’m having it). But why does sex still seems new to me? Is this a symptom of addiction or is it because I’m doing it with several men? Is it all about conquest or is it all about jacking off? Or is it because, as Claudine (or was it Ate Vi? Have to ask MJ) once said in a movie, the men may have taken my body but no one has bothered to conquer my soul --- heart, siguro yung mas bagay na word. Ang bakla naman ng last statement na yun.

I was depressed the other day. I read something on my boyfriend’s phone that made me upset. No, it wasn’t about boys or anything. It was around the same time that a friend was bugging me about a party we were supposed to go to. Since I thought that I should be, at least, in a party mood or perhaps just a tad less antisocial, I went online to search for some inspiration. That’s when I found the trailer for Beerhouse, Jon Red’s new movie. The trailer was amusing but my eyes were quickly drawn to Ryan Eigenmann. Instantly, I was chirpy again. What can I say, men have always had a visceral effect on me.

galing dito ang litrato: http://philippinesfunwall.files.wordpress.com/2008/09/ryan-eigenmann.jpg

oh marat

2009-10-30T01:03:00.000-07:00

i'm in love!

Say Chiz!

2009-10-30T00:16:00.000-07:00

He's not as cute as Gibo and he talks like an android. His general expression is that of someone who has been constantly snacking on dramamin and yet as I watched Chiz Escudero on Probe Profiles a few days ago I instantly realized why Weng has a huge crush on him. The guy has sex appeal, no? He looks as if he really has the balls to lead this country out of the rut it has forever been in (which couldn't be said of Noynoy, apparently all the testosterone in his family went to Kris). But will he be a good leader?

Cue Bayang Barrios

tickle me elmo

2009-10-25T09:54:00.000-07:00

maingay ang paligid. makulay. maraming batang nagsisiparoon at parito habang ang kanilang mga magulang ay bunubuntot buntot sa kanila na parang mga yaya. hindi ito iniinda ni clarissa. nautusan kasi siya ng kanyang supervisor na maghanap ng costume pang dracula sa kanilang stock room. pagkatapos ng ilang balik, hindi rin pala si dracula ang hinahanap ng bumibili. si frankenstein daw.

Alas-diyes pa ng umaga nanduon na si clarissa at ngayon ay ala-siete na ng gabi. ang lamig ng aircon ay halos tumagos na sa kanyang kasukasuan. masakit na rin ang kanyang paa't binti sa kakatayo at kakatakbo. paos na ang kanyang boses. pero hindi niya ito iniintindi dahil alam niyang kasama ito sa kanyang trabaho.

pabalik na siya sa stockroom nang mapadaan siya sa mga stuffed toys. hindi niya hilig ang mga ito. kahit nuong bata'y tingin na niya sa mga ito ay kasayangan lang ng pera. pero siguro dahil sa pagod, puyat at problema (nasalanta sila ng bagyo kamakailan lang) naisip niyang huminto at pagmasdan ang mga ito. hindi niya namalayan, isa isa na pala niyang pinupuri ang mga naka-display. kung papaano ang yellow na feathers ni big bird ay sadyang nakakapang-alis ng pagod o ang blue na balahibo ni cookie monster ay parang nakaka-antok. kay sarap sigurong yakapin ang monster na yan, sa isip isip niya.

sa ibaba, bigla niyang napansin ang kulay red na manika. "Tickle me," sabi ng munting papel na nakasabit sa tagiliran nito. Umupo si clarissa at pinagmasdan ang manika. last year lang nakita niyang kay daming mga magulang ang bumili nito. ipinatong niya ang mga costumes sa kanyang balikat at sinubukang kilitiin si elmo. hindi ito umimik. bagkus sa tingin pa nga niya ay sumimangot pa ito. "bakit kaya?" sa isip isip ni clarissa. siya rin ay napasimangot din. sinungkit niya ang likod ng manika para tingnan kung may baterya pa. meron naman. naisip niya na siguro hindi lang niya ito nakikiliti sa tamang parte. sinubukan niya muling kapain ang tagiliran ni elmo at mula sa munting speakers na nakatago sa balahibo nito ay sa wakas narinig na niya ang mala-batang hagikgik ng manika. napangiti siya. muli niyang kiniliti ang manika. muli ring humagikgik sa elmo. napatawa tuloy si clarissa nang medyo kalakasan kaya naman tumingin tingin siya sa paligid sa takot na may nakakita sa kanya. buti na lang at busy silang lahat.

pinagmasdan niya ng maigi si elmo. ang pula at magulong balahibo nito. ang mga matang kay tigas at kay puti. ang mga labing tila hindi nauubusan ng ngiti. kulang na lang ay alisin niya ito mula sa kinalalagyan na box at hagkan na parang tunay na baby, na parang tunay na tao. pero dahil hindi niya ito pwedeng gawin, muli na lang niyang kiniliti si elmo at siya rin ay napangiti ulit. hindi niya alam kung bakit ito ang kanyang nararamdaman. ang tanging alam lang niya ay gusto niyang naririnig ng paulit ulit ang mga hagikhik ng munting manika.

maingay pa rin paligid, ingay dulot ng mga batang nasisipaglaro't harutan habang ang kanilang mga magulang nama'y bumubunto't bunto na parang mga inaliping yaya.

mula rito ang litrato: www.maryellenhunt.com/.../labels/Iraq.html

la divina

2009-10-19T07:04:00.000-07:00

dreaming of maria callas, whoever she is.

though i am not a princess

2009-10-10T04:44:00.000-07:00

when you finally left me
i realized that i am
not a princess

my hair doesn't cascade
down the tower like
gold

i don't have lips
that taste like apple and
i don't have dainty feet
the slip

perfectly on
glass slippers
had i known that you
never liked gowns

or mirrors
that talk into the wee hours
of the night i would
have aspired to be
something else

i wouldn't mind being
one of Cinderella's
bitchy stepsisters
or have black moods that
befits a wicked witch

had i known you were
looking for something
else i would have not bothered.
because though i am not
a princess i could never
be your prince charming.

mula rito ang litrato: http://www.flickr.com/photos/madamebogg/599772012/

winds

2009-10-08T16:48:00.000-07:00

Someone sent me a link that showed eerie photos of Sidney covered in red dust. The streets looked absolutely apocalyptic and it reminded me of those Martian cities in sci-fi movies. It also reminded me of a scene in The English Patient where Almasy was telling Katharine about the history of winds. The two weren't lovers then and would only start the affair after the desert scene.

EXT. THE DESERT. NIGHT

The sand is piling up against the two cars, the tent is swept from its moorings, the water cans are hurled up, too, and then plunge ominously into sand drifts as if going under an ocean.

ALMASY (O/S)

... let me tell you about winds. There is a whirlwind from Southern Morocco, the Aajej, against which the fellahin defend themselves with knives. And there is the Ghibli from Tunis which rolls and rolls and rolls and produces a rather strange nervous condition...

And we hear Katharine's laugh

INT. CAR. NIGHT

Almasy sits alongside Katharine, whose head is against his shoulder. He continuous his story of winds.

ALMASY

... and then there is the Harmatton, a red wind which mariners call the sea of darkness. Red sand from this wind has flown as far as the south coast of England apparently producing showers so dense the were mistaken for blood...

KATHARINE

Fiction. We have a house on that coast, and it has never, never rained blood.

ALMASY

No, it's all true.

(teasing her)

Herodotus, your friend ---

KATHARINE
(laughs)

My friend!

ALMASY

--- he writes about it and he writes about a wind, the Simoon, which a nation thought was so evil they declared war on it and marched out against it in full battle dress.

He's touching Katharine's hair, he can't help it. She is paralyzed by his touch, then puts out her hand and traces across the window, now entirely silted up with sand.

nagmula dito ang mga litrato: http://omglog.com/uploads/2009/09/luna-park-sidney-september-2009-red-dust-storm-by-tomhide-from-flickr-555x370.jpg and http://i.thisislondon.co.uk/i/pix/2009/09/red-dust-sydney415.jpg

Lola Chanel

2009-10-07T00:37:00.000-07:00

I was having a rotten week. Problems at work, problems with the boyfriend, problems with myself. So what's a faggot to do? Simple lang. I downloaded the movie soundtrack of Coco Before Chanel, locked myself in my room and listened to Alexandre Desplat's “Chez Chanel” while looking at the bedsheets, the drapes, the clothes in the laundry hamper and imagined that when I open that door to our balcony I would see in the horizon the lovely Eiffel Tower.

waiting for pepeng

2009-10-02T05:32:00.001-07:00

Saturday morning. A friend was asking me out. Since I was enjoying my sleep, I kept ignoring her text messages. When I woke up, she was no longer asking me out for coffee. She was now asking me for help. She said her family was trapped in a flood. Since I've been to her place countless of times, I couldn't quite imagine how this is possible. She said the creek behind their house overflowed and the water has already reached their ceiling. I thought she was exaggerating but still my boyfriend and I tried calling every possible hotline: GMA, Sagip-Kapamilya, NDCC, and Lifeline, etc. We got through NDCC but apparently they were already swamped with calls. I was later informed that no one arrived that afternoon but fortunately my friend's family was able to swim out of the house. That night, I received a text message from her. We lost everything, she said. She's asking us if we have some clothes and blankets to spare.

Meanwhile, in another part of the metropolis, a gay friend was telling me how the basement of their condo building has been filled with water. People were panicking as to how they would haul out their vehicles that were slowly being submerged in water. "Ngayon ko lang na-realize," sabi niya sa text. "Ang dami palang macho sa building namin."

Monday. Another friend tells me about her Ondoy story. She was trapped in her ex-boyfriend's house. When the typhoon came, she and her ex were having lunch. When water reached their doorway, they just stupidly ignored it. They kept telling themselves that the water could not possibly get any higher. When the water was already waist-high, they thought it was the worse. By mid-afternoon, they had retreated to the second floor, leaving the ref and the couch floating beneath them. Later on, her ex would tell her that his greatest fear was that the house would collapse under them.

"Didn't he have any grand mala-Titanic pronouncements?" I asked her.

"I think he was too worried to even be romantic. O baka naman wala lang talaga."

She said that though what she and her boyfriend experienced was traumatic, she was already too numb to feel anything. She was, and I quote, already drowning even before the crazy typhoon came. End quote.

Friday while waiting for Pepeng.

"Is it the end of the world as we know it?" I asked a friend.

"Dapat ba hinalikan ko na yung lalaking gusto kong halikan nuon pa," he said.

"Too late for that right now. Baka busy sa baha yun."

"Sabi mo kasi wag ko na siyang pansinin noh?"

"If I knew it was already the end of the world e di nag iba ang advice ko."

"Ang question siempre eh hindi kung ikaw ba ay naging mabait kung hindi kung ikaw ba ay happy sa iyong mga pagkakasala. Are you happy with your sins?"

"I don't think I've sinned enough. You?"

"But it's not the end of the world."

"Of course."

"But starting over is such a bitch."

I want

2009-09-21T08:10:00.000-07:00

* An immaculately white apartment with huge windows and high ceilings
* A bookshelf filled with my favorite books and some expensive art and photography books (pretensyoso to the max!)
* A plane ticket to Vietnam and Japan
* A kindle because Oprah says it’s the best thing in the world
* A turntable and a few Ella Fitzgerald records for those Sunday senti moments
* A nice kitchen with an actual table and a stove for my boyfriend to cook in
* Comfortable upholstered chairs to sit in
* An infinite supply of brewed coffee for the lazy weekday mornings
* A bathtub where I could read and stay in for hours
* Ample of time to do the things that I love most doing in this sordid world of ours (but then contentment and free time have always had an adverse effect on me)

mula rito ang litrato: http://goodbookslately.files.wordpress.com/2009/02/8-24-08-kindle-books2.jpg